


The Warlock and The Werewolf

by PhantomWriter



Series: A Warlock and a Trickster walk into Hogwarts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Gen, POV Multiple, hints of Merthur, mentions of Merlin/Freya - Freeform, three way crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: Remus Lupin is the substitute DADA professor. Sirius Black is on the run.Merlin figures out how Harry, and himself, fit among the tangle of connections. Too bad Loki is currently in Asgard to help him.





	The Warlock and The Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

> Will follow the flow of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban book. Merlin and Loki will take on the same appearance as in the BBC Merlin and MCU Loki, but Loki's abilities are based on the Norse Mythology and MCU combined. Multiple POVs. Some dialogs taken exactly from the book.
> 
> P.S. Unbeta-ed, and some grammar mistakes to be corrected later. Events are semi-canon compliant starting this part of the series. Fair warning on the lack of WolfStar relationship tag. The hints might scare you, but they're not a couple yet so no tag here.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:**  Characters associated are not mine and belong to their respective owners.

"Hello, Arthur."

Merlin sat by the bank of the lake of Avalon, his fingers making circular ripples on the otherwise still surface. It has been quite some time since his last visit—on the Christmas term break of his first school year teaching at Hogwarts.

Bringing a large bouquet of yellow chrysanthemum and a single daffodil, Merlin hoped Arthur would forgive his absence.

He unbounded the bouquet, placing stem by stem onto the water and letting the flow carry them to the mound of earth where Arthur was buried under.

"I'm fine, if you're wondering. The children might be stressing sometimes, but I enjoy teaching them. It's something about their curiosity, you know?" Merlin said. "Ah, and their taste for grand adventures." He blinked, frowning a little. "Loki and I might be encouraging it though.

"You remember him, of course? He was with me during my stay at Hogwarts, taking the position of a professor as well. He's the same as ever, bit of a snob—must be a common trait among royals—but mischievous to the people he's close to, who, at the current time and place, includes only me. I'll be fixing that, no worries. Would you believe that he let a false rumor ran wild? That prat.

"He won't be around this school year. He's back in Asgard, tending to his new snake. It's a basilisk, actually; instant death upon eye contact, does it ring a bell by any chance? We were quite lucky not to encounter one before, eh? It would be quite difficult to protect you from  _that_.

"I'll be on my own at Hogwarts this year. Don't get me wrong. The professors are nice, with some who could do with a bit more sunshine, but overall, they're good people. It's just that last year it was like only Loki and I, and you know how different we are from the rest. That was an error of ours, I think. With our secret campaign against Voldemort, we could do with more allies and friends who share our cause. I promise that I'll be fixing that this year.

"The novelty of Hogwarts to me never faded, I realized, despite being here for the third time now. Perhaps it has something to do with seeing magic running freely, practiced and honed by talented children, and taught by learned adults. Look how far the world has come to, Arthur. I am glad to live and witness it.

"Though if there is one regret that I have, it is you not being here with me to see it as well."

* * *

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, Merlin was immediately greeted by the Headmaster.

"Good afternoon, Professor Emrys," Dumbledore said, smiling welcomingly. "You are early."

"Good afternoon, Headmaster." Merlin smiled back. "There's nothing much to do at home when you're living alone."

"Then you will forgive an old man for assuming that there was somebody waiting for a young man like you back at home."

Merlin sheepishly touched his nape. "It's alright. I'm sure that my parents would have pushed me to that direction too."

Dumbledore, thankfully, refrained from asking the health of Merlin's parents. He perfectly understood the context of that statement.

"Did somebody already arrive?" Merlin asked, changing the subject.

"Professor Snape is always the first to come back. One could say he's excited to teach again, no matter what they say about him." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in amusement.

"I won't blame Professor Snape though. Even  _I_  am looking forward to another year," Merlin said. "Speaking of which, Headmaster, will there be a substitute for Professor Loki?"

"It has been taken care of, Professor Emrys. He's an alumnus of the school and was in the same year as Professor Snape. It took me some time to track him down, but I'm confident that he'll be as good as Professor Loki. Though he might find it difficult to adjust, I do hope he finds a friend in you, and you as well in him."

"Of course, Headmaster," Merlin assured him. "When will he be arriving?"

"His name is Remus John Lupin," Dumbledore informed him. "He'll be arriving with the students aboard the Hogwarts Express."

Merlin could have been mistaken, but it seemed as if he heard the name before.

Dumbledore regarded Merlin briefly. "If you'll pardon me, there's a favor I need to ask of you, professor."

Merlin watched as Dumbledore pulled a roll of newspaper from his sleeve. He smoothed out the paper and handed it to Merlin.

He was presented with the front page displaying a man who was screaming and struggling against what seemed to be Aurors. The caption said it was Sirius Black, a wizard sent to Azkaban after murdering thirteen people in one blow, and was a known supporter of Voldemort. Sirius Black, who gained the reputation of being Voldemort's notorious right-hand man, escaped two days ago, throwing the Wizarding World in frenzy.

Merlin paused. He knew this man. This was the very same person accused to have sold the Potters to Voldemort.

This was Harry's godfather!

"Sirius Black is yet to be found, but the Ministry is doing everything they can to catch him. Their methods, though, left much to be desired," Dumbledore told him gravely. "Tomorrow, Dementors will be sent to station around Hogwarts in search of Sirius Black. Unfortunately, they will also include the Hogwarts Express in their inspection."

"The train? Why will they be searching among the students?"

"They are under the notion that he'll be going after Harry Potter, first and foremost. The Ministry's logic included Sirius Black boarding the Hogwarts Express," Dumbledore said in a weary tone.

 _Is there nothing you can do?_  Merlin wanted to ask, but he realized it was a stupid question, for Dumbledore must have, as Merlin could clearly feel the old wizard's anger. "Would you like me to be there with Professor Lupin?"

"If you do not mind, I would appreciate your presence with them," Dumbledore said gratefully.

Merlin gave a small reassuring smile. "I don't mind, Headmaster. Besides, it's a chance for me to know Professor Lupin as well."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Thank you, Professor Emrys."

* * *

Merlin still has a lot of questions left unanswered.

First was how could someone escape Azkaban. Merlin knew of its reputation to house known wizard criminals, except Grindelwald. Azkaban's impenetrability must have come from its choice of guards, the Dementors, who were neither living nor dead. Some would agree with Merlin that they were rather foul creatures, siphoning happiness from a person; worst, their soul. Merlin never approved of the method, but he wouldn't deny their effectiveness either.

For Sirius Black to escape without damage after being with Dementors for twelve years would be a miracle, and thinking about it only brought up more questions.

Another thing that kept nagging on Merlin was Sirius Black's relation to Harry. It wasn't much known—behind gratuitous tabloids and claims regarding Sirius Black being a high ranking official among the Death Eaters—that the man was the godfather of The Boy Who Lived and was a close friend of the boy's parents. Was his relationship with them merely a ruse? Oh, Merlin was aware of those built by lies and deception, but to truly betray a friend…

Though who was he kidding exactly? He knew firsthand that people could change for the worst. He had Morgana and Mordred to remind him of that. How was it impossible that the same happened to Sirius Black?

Merlin was interrupted by the incoming steam train—the Muggle ones that reminded him that he was yet to cross the barrier.

After stepping to the other side, he was met with the sight of swarm of students. The train has arrived, with farewells from students to their families being exchanged left and right. Merlin looked around for the three familiar heads but was unable to find them.

He did, however, caught glimpse of platinum blond.

It was Draco accompanied by two people who must be his parents; one was a beautiful woman with aristocratic features, while the man was somebody Merlin knew. He remembered Lucius Malfoy with dismay, especially the events of an evening months ago at Hagrid's hut.

Merlin waited until the last of students boarded the train, jumping in a few seconds before the train started to move. He wasn't banking on getting a compartment with free space for one more person, and he didn't really mind standing for a few hours. If there was one thing that he would never get tired of was the scenery the Hogwarts Express was passing by.

Expectedly, there were no seats left, but moving from car to car, he was actually hoping to find the other professor aboard and to note where he was situated. The Headmaster wasn't specific of the time when the Dementors would arrive, and Merlin would rather be prepared by then.

Merlin stopped at the third to the last compartment and peered inside. This seemed to be where Draco and his friends were. He was about to move to the next one when he was suddenly called.

"Professor!"

It was Draco's exiting his compartment to look at him. There was a ghost of a grin on his face and an odd sort of relief.

When he appeared to have caught his own expression though, his face returned to its trademark disinterested look with a hint of a sneer.

 _Too late for that_ , Merlin thought amusedly.

"Hello, Draco. Had a great summer?" Merlin asked.

"It's alright," came the reply. Draco shrugged, trying to show nonchalance and crossing his arms. "You?"

Merlin was mature enough to not grin at Draco's obvious attempt at sounding haughty. "Good. Sadly, I didn't get a tan."

Draco only looked at him confusedly.

"It's a Muggle tradition to go to the beach during summer. They go for a swim while some sunbathe, or you can do a little of both. But you can get a tan while in the waters, especially when the sun is blaring."

"Oh," Draco murmured. "Must be—"

"Fun?" Merlin supplied cheekily.

The younger man rolled his eyes. "I was going to say stupid."

"Is it now? People like us who are born pale could do with some color occasionally, don't you think?"

Draco didn't dignify him with an answer, sending him a scowl. "Aren't you looking for a compartment?" He grumbled. "Sir?"

Merlin's face broke into a grin. "I was looking, yes."

"We have a free seat," Draco muttered, almost annoyed if Merlin didn't know better.

"Are you asking me to join you?"

Draco looked more stricken than ever, and while Merlin didn't want to lay off from teasing him entirely, he decided the boy must have an entire day worth of it from dealing with him alone.

"I mean, sure. Won't your friends mind though? Professors are not really fun to be with outside school."

"They won't mind as long as I said so."

Merlin followed him in, prompting Draco's companions quiet. The girl, Parkinson, was sending Draco inquisitive stares as if asking for an explanation to Merlin's presence.

"Professor Emrys will be joining us. Everywhere is full," was Draco's clipped answer, and that was it.

Merlin smiled warmly. "Thank you for the invite, Mister Malfoy. Hello to you too, Miss Parkinson, Mister Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle."

He received curt nods in return and more uncertainty on how to act with a professor present.

"Will Professor Loki handle DADA again?" Parkinson piped up, startling Draco. Merlin didn't know what Draco's disapproving glare was for. "…Sir?"

"Unfortunately, he won't be joining us for this year," Merlin replied apologetically. "He went home to attend some family matters. He thinks his father has a lot to say to his sudden absence."

Parkinson looked utterly disappointed.

"Don't worry, he'll be back on your fourth year while a substitute will be handling the subject for this term."

"Who will it be then, the substitute?"

"The Headmaster mentioned his name—Professor Remus John Lupin."

Zabini scrunched his face in disdain. "Sounds like a Muggle-born name."

"Will there be a problem if he is a Muggle or a half?" Merlin inquired gently.

Zabini didn't answer him, pointedly looking on the greenery outside and the darkening skies. They were near to crossing the bridge, and after that it would be a much smoother ride.

"I was hoping to meet him here. The Headmaster told me Professor Lupin would be riding the train," Merlin continued.

Draco turned to him, puzzled. "You were already at Hogwarts?"

Merlin nodded cheerfully. "Been there two days ago to drop my things."

"Then what are you doing here?" Draco's lips twitched. "Sir."

"Scenery." Merlin gestured at the window. "Mister Zabini can tell you how nice it is."

Parkinson concealed a giggle, though it wasn't really hard to miss given that they weren't quite the talkative bunch. Merlin realized that Crabbe and Goyle have been quiet for a while. Their attention, he found out, was on an issue of  _Daily Prophet_ , the same one Dumbledore had shown him last time.

Draco scowled at seeing Crabbe and Goyle poring over Sirius Black's image at the front page. Immediately, he demanded that the newspaper was to be handed back to him. The two cowered under Draco's glare, promptly returning the newspaper without a word.

"Sirius Black?" Parkinson asked curiously, turning at Draco without heed to his scathing look. "Isn't he a relative of yours?"

Merlin's interest was piqued.

"Only by my mother," Draco snapped. "And he has been officially removed from the Black for being a blood-traitor. He's no longer a family," he added coldly, and that was the end of conversation.

Draco looked as if he was daring Merlin to say something when he caught his gaze lingering on him. Merlin silently assured him that he wouldn't press on.

No matter how more and more confusing the identity of Sirius Black was becoming to him.

Draco called him a blood-traitor, and such title wasn't easily warranted. Merlin knew of wizarding families who claimed their blood too pure to be tarnished with the none-pure—Muggles or half—and the practice of maintaining their blood purity was common to the old, noble wizarding families.

And then there were what these so called nobles call blood-traitors, the Pure-blooded wizards who have no qualms mingling with Muggles and half-bloods. One prominent example was the Weasleys for their love of Muggles.

Which only caused Merlin's respect for their kind to grow.

It also brought him back to Sirius Black once again.

Merlin didn't get the chance to ponder on it when the Hogwarts Express suddenly halted with a loud screech.

As if on cue, the lights blacked out as frost lined on the glass of the window, obscuring the view outside as wisps of ice formed and thickened.

"What's going on?" Parkinson asked aloud, her breath coming out in cold puffs of air.

Merlin quickly casted both warming and illumination charm on the whole compartment, heating their space like a campfire. Merlin asked them to huddle together, and they complied obediently.

"Stay here," he said to them. "I'll go out and check."

He actually didn't have to; he was pretty sure of what caused the abrupt drop in temperature.

Merlin performed a nonverbal spell once his back was on them. The doors were stuck with frost that he had to give a more forceful budge to open it.

To his relief, there was no student loitering outside the compartments. It was dim and frigid, giving the hallway a haunted atmosphere.

As if all the happiness left the place.

Merlin locked each set of doors with a murmur as he passed by. He was yet to see a Dementor, but the students would be a lot safer locked in.

At the other end of the train, Merlin spotted a glow of white light hitting a dark blur. He ran towards it and stopped once he got a closer look.

It was a Dementor that appeared to have come from a compartment and was fended away by the bluish-light hurtled its way. The bright glow shunned the Dementor, making it flee straight to Merlin's path.

Instinctively, Merlin's magic came forth to protect him, sending the Dementor a blast of force focused on it alone, disintegrating the cloaked creature in a matter of seconds.

As the last of its body dissolved, Merlin used his wand to illuminate the area. Upon alighting the path, he came face to face with a man standing outside the open compartment the Dementor had been from.

"Are you alright?" asked the man in a hoarse voice, the shivering flame on his hand turned brighter. "There was a Dementor here."

With their combined light, Merlin could clearly see the man's features of tousled toffee-colored hair as if he was asleep not long ago, with a face etched with concern and old lines of scars running across his skin. His chocolate-brown eyes swept across Merlin in search of possible harm taken before his gaze widened a fraction, bemused, causing his pupils to appear in the shade of amber from Merlin's angle.

"Oh, uh, yes, there was," Merlin said. "It left when it saw me. Was it from here?"

"Yes." Merlin would probably correct in his guess that it was this man who drove the Dementor away. He stared, a nagging thought in his mind telling him he had seen this man before, many years ago. "If you will please come in and join them." The man gestured vaguely at the open door. "One fell unconscious all of a sudden. And I need to speak to the driver."

Merlin caught himself, stepping past the man to go in.

"I'll be right back. Please look after them for a while."

Merlin was met with the sight of five huddled children, not quite unlike Draco and his friends' position, only these students were looking more miserable and were shivering. Two were on the floor, shaking, and Merlin recognized them as Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. Almost hugging were Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger, and lying on the seat, passed out, was Harry Potter.

Merlin casted the same warming spell and intensified it a notch for the effect to take place faster. It warmed them greatly, it seemed, as he helped Ron and Neville to their seats on the other side of Harry's. He conjured a large red blanket to place around the conscious boys' shoulders and did the same for the two girls. He checked on Harry and found him cocooned in a black coat that was too large for his frame. Merlin supposed it was from the man. He smiled at the gesture.

When the lights flickered back on, he heaved a sigh of relief, noticing that the frost encrusted on the window receded until there was only the  _tap_   _tap_   _tap_  of raindrops hitting the glass.

Merlin's palm went to Harry's forehead. His skin was cold. Merlin's hand did its job of placing a soothing touch, with some of his healing magic working. Harry's forehead warmed and was faintly and briefly bathed in golden glow. The back of Merlin's hand brushed softly the scar that made the boy famous.

"How is he?" the man from before—which Merlin has an inkling now who might be—asked from behind Merlin.

"He's resting for now," Merlin answered. "Is everyone alright?"

The man nodded, giving a small smile in assurance. "Nobody else fell unconscious." His eyes darted to Harry. "Only him."

"What happened?"

"Prolonged exposure to the Dementor," he said. Merlin noticed him hesitating. "It was as if it attacked him."

 _That would explain it,_ Merlin thought both sadly and internally furious. He couldn't understand how it was possible. Dementors were foul, yes, but the Ministry was confident they could be handled, and these creatures never stepped out of line of their "duties".

"He should be alright once Madame Pomfrey sees to him," Merlin said, absently brushing Harry's long bangs. He looked at the man _—Professor Lupin_ , he corrected himself—and smiled. "This isn't exactly the first meeting I have in mind, Professor Lupin." Merlin stood, holding out a hand. "Professor Emrys, but you can call me Emrys. It's a pleasure meeting you, professor."

Lupin shook the proffered hand. "Please. Lupin will do." He noted the other students blearily watching their exchange. They were in better condition, anyhow, and were shifting uncomfortably on their seats like they were rudely awakened.

Hermione quickly moved from under her blanket to loom over Harry worriedly. Ron followed soon with Neville and Ginny, and Merlin allowed them the space, standing beside Lupin.

Merlin watched from the sidelines as Harry slowly wakened under the dull shake of the train as it continued on its way. He leaned on a wall, witnessing Lupin breaking a slab of chocolate, parting it equally among the children and saying it would help; chocolate produces serotonin, the chemical that triggers happiness. Lupin saved a cut and offered it to Merlin.

"For me?" Merlin asked, surprised. "It's alright. I wasn't exposed to the Dementor."

"I insist," Lupin said gently. "And you  _did_  face one."

"Well… yes. Okay. Thank you." Merlin took the piece and broke it in half, nudging to Lupin. "You need it too, professor."

Lupin chuckled weakly. "Alright."

…

"Are you alright, professor?" Emrys asked from beside Remus.

"Yes. Exhausted, that's all," Remus said mildly. "It has been a tiresome day."

He closed his eyes when they began to feel heavy. It was a rough full moon the other night, and his body was still aching on certain places. His scratches at the back must have opened again, for he could smell the coppery scent of blood. With the wolf remaining this close on the surface, Remus found it difficult to have a shut-eye. The wolf was practically growling, in fact.

Remus would have understood the wolf's mistrust in the presence of his fellow professor (he looked young, he realized). The wolf only trusted its pack. But he couldn't understand the apparent fury of the wolf. Remus could feel its animosity towards the other as well as how very much alert it was; a complete opposite of the drowsiness Remus's human body was experiencing.

"How long have you been teaching?" Remus asked the younger man, in hopes of fighting sleepiness. He wanted to at least get a meal before bed.

"I replaced Professor Binns only a year ago," Emrys said. "It was an honor to have him as my predecessor."

"Professor Binns? About time he retired. The poor man was too dedicated to even notice his death. I still remembered him floating to class and passing through walls during my student days." Remus fondly recalled his friends poking the ghost professor with their wands without him knowing.

Emrys gave a grin and perked up. "I did hear from the Headmaster that you were a student of Hogwarts before. What house?"

"I was in Gryffindor." Remus suppressed another memory bubbling in his head. "If you do not mind me asking, do you have a relative who had been a student at Hogwarts?"

 _Emrys_.

The name wasn't exactly lost to Remus. He was fascinated with the tales of King Arthur and Merlin since he was a child. Emrys was but another name of the greatest wizard of all time. Though he wasn't aware  _Emrys_ became a family name. Was the professor Muggle-born with that surname perhaps? But then it wouldn't fit on his first assumption—Emrys looked familiar, resembling a schoolmate and a fellow prefect back in Remus's Hogwarts days.

"Why do you ask?" Emrys blinked, startled.

Remus shrugged. "You happen to resemble somebody I know. I would have mistaken you for him, except that he should be as old as me by now, if not a few years older. His name is Arthur Collins if I'm right."

"Er..." Emrys scratched the back of his head. "That's him. My uncle."

 _Uncle._  Remus supposed that would explain it. "How is he by the way?" Remus, with his natural perceptiveness, noticed the slight nervousness Emrys was expertly keeping from him.

"He's dead," Emrys answered shortly. "A few years back, he caught an incurable dragon pox."

Remus reminded himself that it must have been a sensitive subject that shouldn't be brought up again. "I'm sorry."

Emrys shook his head. "It's alright." He was thoughtful for a moment. "Were you two close?" There was something on his tone.  _Guilt?_

"I'd like to think we were acquaintances at least, because while we never really spoke beyond our prefect duties, and he was two years ahead of me so we were never in the same class, he did help me before on Potions. He liked to keep his presence low all the time, no matter how brilliant he was, as if he was afraid of standing out when he actually did without deliberation." Remus's lips quirked to a smile. "I think that quality made me idolize him more."

It was easy to miss at the dim evening, but Remus caught a glimpse of a tinge of pink coloring Emrys's pale cheeks. Remus tried not to stare, not wanting to embarrass the young man further. Whatever could have caused him to react as such?

Remus's gaze strayed upwards. He regarded, with no small amount of displeasure, the Dementors overhead. "They're here too, I see."

"They're trying hard to catch him," Emrys stated, his tone oddly distant. "Sirius Black."

Remus's mind supplied unhelpfully that Sirius was too clever to be caught, if his escape from their territory hasn't made it clear yet. Besides, if he was truly determined to get Harry…

Remus didn't want to dwell on that particular line of thought. Dumbledore asked him to teach for a reason outside parting knowledge to the students. If Sirius was to be here, then Remus would be ready for him.

A persistent thought has been occurring these past few days, something that he couldn't put off with the two sides of him warring against each other: the loyal Marauder side and the adult Remus Lupin in him.

Unfortunately, it was the Marauder side that kept telling him not to divulge Sirius Black's secret to Dumbledore.

…

As Harry stepped down from the coach, he paused with distaste as he saw Malfoy looking at him oddly, which Ron and Hermione didn't notice. For a second, Harry thought he would insult him in that drawling voice of his, especially when Crabbe and Goyle joined his side and whispered something that made the two snigger.

Against Harry's expectations though, Malfoy didn't. He merely glared at the two larger teens and stalked off, much to Harry and even Crabbe and Goyle's surprise.

Harry completely forgot the weird encounter when Professor McGonagall asked the trio to come see her at her office. At first, he thought they were in trouble (for what, he didn't know), but the Deputy Headmistress assured them it would only be to have a word.

Once in her office Professor McGonagall informed them of Professor Lupin sending an owl beforehand, telling them what happened. Madame Pomfrey soon entered the office, and Harry felt even more embarrassed to be fussed at.

"Well, you're in good shape," the Mediwitch said. "I'd say I wouldn't know you got ill if not for Professor Lupin's letter. But you should have chocolate at least."

"Professor Lupin gave me some," Harry said. "He and Professor Emrys were there when I passed out. Professor Lupin said Professor Emrys looked after me while I was unconscious."

"It's good to know our DADA substitute knows his remedies. He will be different from your last, but I'm sure he'll be just as competent." Madame Pomfrey hummed approvingly. "And it was also good that Professor Emrys was aboard too."

Harry was glad too that they were there. But while he wasn't feeling as terrible as he thought when he came to consciousness, he couldn't shake from his mind the scream only he heard. It was a woman's scream, and the fact that he was the only person who heard it caused even more unease.

They missed the sorting, and upon their entrance to the Great Hall, Harry was already treated to surreptitiously pointed fingers at him and hushed whispers that he was sure about his fainting at the train. Determined to ignore them, he slid quietly at their places at the Gryffindor table.

It wasn't long when Dumbledore ascended the podium, beaming at the students before giving his usual speech of rules and regulations for the first years and most especially to those who kept refraining to heed them.

On a more serious note, Dumbledore mentioned the Dementors stationed around Hogwarts per Ministry's orders. Dumbledore heavily advised to tread carefully around the Dementors since they couldn't understand pleading and excuses and were not fooled by any kind of deception. Dumbledore blandly included the use of invisibility cloak, in which Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

Dumbledore then welcomed not only one but two new professors. He first introduced Professor Lupin, who wasn't popular with his shabby clothes compared to his fellow staff, and was met with unenthusiastic applause from those who missed Professor Loki terribly. Harry and those with him at the compartment were the only people to clap the loudest. Professor Emrys, who was sitting beside Professor Lupin, gave the new professor a thumbs up when he humbly returned to his seat.

At Professor Lupin's introduction, Ron nudged Harry, pointing at Snape specifically.

It was common knowledge that the Potion Master wanted the DADA position, but the scathing look he sent Professor Lupin's way was beyond anger. It was pure loathing, the kind he reserved for Harry alone.

Dumbledore announced the second new appointment, and to the trio's utter delight, it was Hagrid who would be handling the Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid stood with his enormous built, waving in appreciation to the Gryffindor table which held the loudest cheers.

They should have known, because who else would assign a biting book?

The feast began exactly when Harry began feeling ravenous. At the same time, he, Ron, and Hermione were eager to finish the feast to talk to Hagrid.

They approached the teachers' table once they got their chance to personally congratulate Hagrid. It was a dream of his, he said, and Harry didn't doubt that.

Ushered by Percy to the dormitories, Harry landed on the soft mattress of his bed with a content sigh.

That night, he fell asleep easily—his most peaceful since the past week.

He was home.

* * *

The following morning, Merlin had woken up shortly after dawn to get the freshest of fruits from the market near Hogsmeade. He bought a basket full of various kind and a pound of red meat from a single vendor whose stand was one of the few that was up at the early hours. The kind old lady smiled fondly at Merlin, bidding him a pleasant day.

Merlin returned to his office, not yet going straight to Hagrid's even if he knew the gamekeeper was already up and about. His present for the gentle giant was still incomplete.

Merlin pulled out a suitcase underneath the bed. It appeared normal on the outside, but it was in fact an entrance to a small room filled with shelves of tinctures and potions Merlin made throughout the years. The suitcase was an idea he got decades ago from a young wizard carrying a bunch of creatures in his suitcase, and when he thought about it, that young wizard and Hagrid were quite similar in terms of interest.

Recognizing Hagrid's fondness to treat and take care of magical creatures, Merlin got what he has on curing unicorn injuries and potions that could be used on hounds in case of emergency for Fang. Merlin also gathered potent potions that could be helpful to centaurs and any other close kin of horses. He didn't forget the thestrals that were also under Hagrid's care.

Merlin was finally satisfied when he filled a box with vials, tying the box with a cord before carrying it. He didn't meet anybody on his way to Hagrid's hut despite the sun being up an hour ago.

Merlin knocked thrice before he was answered by a disheveled Hagrid who was surprised upon seeing him at his doorsteps.

"Sorry. Did I catch you at a bad time?" Merlin said.

"Oh, no, no, professor. I jus' finished feeding the thestrals so I haven't cleaned me'self." Hagrid opened the door wider. "C'min, professor."

"Thank you." Once Merlin entered the hut, he presented his gifts. "Here, as congratulations to you,  _professor_." He winked.

"Yeh shouldn't have bothered, professor," Hagrid said, grateful and in awe once he opened the box of vials while Merlin fed the red meat to Fang. "Are these—"

"Hmm? Oh, those are some potions I made myself. A few were experiments of mine combining both Muggle and magical medication. Now, I'm not as adept in potion making compared to Professor Snape, but I hope they help if ever—which I hope won't happen—any of your children are in need of medical attention."

Hagrid sniffed at Merlin's choice of wording for his creatures. "Yes, me children." He turned his watery eyes to Emrys. "I don't know how ter thank yeh, professor."

"It's Emrys. We're both professors now," Merlin reminded him cheerfully. "And tea is enough for me." He grinned.

They talked over a cup of tea and a plate of treacle tart. Its texture was far from perfect, but Merlin appreciated the hospitality and the effort put into it knowing Hagrid made it himself.

"So this afternoon will be your first class then?" Merlin asked.

Hagrid took a huge gulp of his tea. "Yes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione will be there, but I'm nerv'us still," he admitted.

"You'll be fine," Merlin assured him. "It's normal to be nervous. I was anxious too on my first day. You know your stuff, Hagrid, and just keep on doing what you're best at. The only difference is that you have an audience now on your day to day activities."

"Was thinking of somat diff'rent on the firs' day." At Merlin's nod of encouragement, Hagrid continued, "I want them ter meet a hippogriff."

"Wow." Merlin had heard of them, but he rarely encountered one. It just reminded him that no matter the number of years he has been around, there were still some things he was yet to experience.

"Would yeh like to see Buckbeak?"

"Now?"

"If yeh want. It's alright if—"

"Please lead the way then," Merlin eagerly said.

…

Merlin was lead to a clearing near the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. The sunlight peeked through the leaves of the tall trees, bathing the area in a surreal light where a hippogriff emerged and stood majestically.

He remembered when he first saw a unicorn, when he thought it was the most beautiful sight he landed his eyes on; it still was, only that it was no longer alone among all of what Merlin had seen.

"They're proud cre'tures, professor," Hagrid told him when Merlin approached the hippogriff slowly. "Like Buckbeak here. He wants ter be bowed at firs' before—oh."

Buckbeak tilted his head at Merlin, blinking his golden eyes at him before bowing low first at Merlin. Merlin returned the gesture politely. Buckbeak proceeded to bare his neck at Merlin, in which the latter took as a sign that he was allowed to touch the hippogriff.

"I've never seen Buckbeak this close ter stran'ers," Hagrid said, in awe. "Yeh're a natural, professor."

Merlin laughed softly. "He's fascinating, Hagrid."

When Buckbeak nuzzled Merlin's neck, Merlin felt his day already made.

…

At breakfast, there were two professors already present—Professor Snape and Professor Lupin.

Merlin happily trudged towards Snape's seat and gave the sullen man a jovial greeting. Merlin was in high spirits because of Buckbeak that he didn't mind the curt  _good morning_ and the accompanying sneer he received in return.

Grinning, he sat beside Lupin who was quite amused at the exchange and was looking at Merlin with newfound respect.

"Good morning, Emrys."

"Good morning, Lupin." Merlin smirked. He paused. There was some color on the DADA professor's cheeks now, and his ragged look lessened. The bags underneath his eyes remained, but overall, Lupin looked healthier compared yesterday.

Lupin seemed to know what Merlin was thinking. "It has been a while since I slept soundly."

"I noticed," Merlin said, biting on his toast with a small smile. "It did you good."

Lupin nodded in agreement, and that was the end of the subject. "Do you have classes today?"

"First years Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. You?"

"Fourth years, same houses." Lupin took a sip of tea. "I don't think I won't be able to keep up to Professor Loki. I heard he was proficient in handling the curriculum, and it's obvious that he's popular to them."

Merlin snorted. "Don't mind him. His teaching style is different and so do yours. And I'm sure you're a practical type of professor too." He smiled encouragingly. "It's not a competition of who's the best. You'll be fine," he said.

"We'll see," Lupin said. "I heard you two applied together at Hogwarts."

"We did. But if you ask him, he'll tell you that I dragged him along, and that he had no choice. Of course, he won't admit that he did it for his friend."

Lupin didn't comment, but Merlin could see the knowing twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no, I know that look," Merlin said accusingly. He winced. "That talk is still going around?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Lupin said far too innocently.

"For the record, no, we're not involved. I don't even know where that rumor came from." Merlin stabbed the scrambled egg with his fork. "Why can't they see that we're two close friends? I mean, he's like my brother from another mother."

Lupin hummed noncommittally. He looked rather far away for a short while, picking at his food. "I had three of those too. Once," he murmured, too quietly that Merlin almost missed it.

Obviously, it a touchy subject to pursue. Merlin was thankful for the arrival of the Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall, and the Headmaster. Lupin and he exchanged good mornings with them until more arrive and took their respective places on the table. More and more students arrived at the Great Hall.

Owls flew overhead, mostly on the long tables of children, and a handful on the faculty table. Merlin's tawny owl, Lancelot, dropped a subscription of  _Daily Prophet_  at his lap.

A different headline, yet very much meant the same since the beginning of the week, could be found at the front page.

**SIRIUS BLACK STILL AT LARGE**

A curious gaze landed on Merlin as he read another article concerning the Ministry's doubled efforts (that yielded no results) on catching Black, and yet another biased speculation of the writer as to why Black deserved the kiss of the Dementor. Merlin knew of this punishment, and it wasn't something he supported. No living person deserved to have their soul gradually taken from them.

"Do you think he really deserve it?" Lupin asked softly, his gaze unwavering at the article Merlin was reading. Merlin could detect a hint of strain, as if his own words were causing him pain to force out.

He folded the newspaper, keeping the headline away from his own eyes. "No, I don't," Merlin answered a while later. "Nobody does. You might hate me for this, but I don't think even Voldemort deserve it." Lupin didn't flinch at the name, and Merlin admired him for it. "I don't believe that anybody was born evil, and the proof is the soul. It's the purest thing when we were born… so the choice to taint it is on our hands alone." He smiled sadly. "Through our way of living and the choices we make." He first saw it from Morgana, followed by Mordred. There was a spectrum of differences between Voldemort and Merlin's former nemeses, but he did understand that the circumstances that made them into what they came out to be were how they were failed in their lives.

Or in Morgana and Mordred's cases, how they were failed by Merlin.

They were both his regrets that Merlin learned to live with in his immortal life.

"I see," was what Lupin simply said as he digested Merlin's words.

His expression barely changed, but Merlin could see relief that he couldn't help but think he unknowingly passed some sort of test.

"Would you like to have it?" Merlin pushed the newspaper to him. "I don't think we'll be seeing anything new for a while."

Lupin could only murmur thanks as he stared at the moving photo of Sirius Black.

…

"Now, is any of you familiar with Cornelius Sigan?"

Merlin was met with blank stares, which he already expected. The name wasn't included on the textbook they were using, and Sigan's name was too old to be recognized, and the dark wizard was long dead since before Merlin's days serving Arthur as a prince.

A pale arm shot up from the front row.

Merlin nodded at the girl encouragingly. She has a long dirty blond hair tied messily; her ears were adorned with radish earrings, while on her neck hung a necklace of butter beer caps, and her expression vacant. Merlin knew her.

"Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

"His ring signet is a raven," she answered with her usual dreamy tone. "My dad said Sigan means raven."

Merlin heard snickering at the back and some whispers of  _Looney Lovegood_   _and her dad_. He didn't call them out, though he has an idea who they might be.

The redhead girl beside Luna, Ginny Weasley, sent a scowl at the direction where she last heard the derisive nickname.

"One-point deduction to the house points of each student who participated in name-calling," Merlin announced calmly, effectively shutting the students up. He won't tolerate bullying in his own classroom. "And ten points to Ravenclaw for Miss Lovegood's answer, for knowing even Cornelius Sigan's ring signet.  _Sigan_  indeed means raven in the language of Old Religion." He paced on front of the board. "The name was hardly mentioned since King Arthur's time. Understandable, since he was long dead even at King Uther's reign, but to those who remembered him at that era, they would have told you that Cornelius Sigan didn't have the best of reputations. He was a powerful dark wizard who believed in his strength and wealth. One of his mission in his life was to find a way to bring his wealth with him even after death. Or better yet, be an immortal.

"Now, why was he considered great? Well, he was one of the wizards who built Camelot. Though in the end, he cursed its fall upon his return to life."

"Did he, sir?" asked a male Gryffindor. "Did he return to life?"

"Good question, Creevy," Merlin said with a ghost of a grin. "He did. There was this wandering thief who took an interest particularly in the large blue jewel that was rumored to be lying on top of Sigan's tomb. This jewel turned out to be where Sigan placed his soul. When the thief touched it, he was taken over by Cornelius Sigan, and within twenty-four hours he attacked Camelot."

Merlin fondly noted the rapt faces of the class. He was told he has a knack for storytelling and has this kind of effect on his listeners.

"Who—How was he defeated, sir?"

"Merlin defeated him. By that time, Merlin was already in Camelot, though his magic remained uncontrolled and was greatly raw that Sigan sensed it. Sigan sought to take over Merlin's body and wield his magic for himself. He wasn't successful, obviously."

It wasn't clear to Merlin either how it happened. He was absolutely sure he had felt Sigan's soul had latched on to him. Sigan was powerful, on par with Nimueh perhaps when he was alive, but Merlin's young magic had driven the foreign soul out of his body in a matter of minutes.

He used to think that it was all because of the spell the dragon had breathed on him, and when Merlin figured out his real strength due to his immortality, he realized that the spell Kilgharrah had given him was nothing but to contain Sigan's invasive soul. Without it, Merlin's magical prowess alone would have destroyed the soul completely.

Merlin recalled feeling more hollow once finding out all there was to know about himself and his existence. He had a hard time to believe he was a being of pure magic of Old Religion, practically a part of nature.

Because with all that power in him, he couldn't save the single person who mattered the most.

…

Remus intended on basking in the afternoon sun when he saw the third years' Care of Magical Creatures class.

Hagrid was doing well for his fist lesson, with a hippogriff, no less. The gamekeeper has been a friend of the young Marauders on their years at Hogwarts. James and Sirius had taken interest on Hagrid's creatures, while Peter would stand beside Remus at the sidelines, fearful of the large creatures. Remus would always comfort him for it, with his own case the opposite—the creatures being afraid of the wolf in him as they seemed to be able to sense it.

His eyes found Harry among the bunch of Gryffindor and Slytherin. His resemblance to James brought memories that Remus treasured and some that he had been repressing. It took all of his will not to embrace tightly his late best friend's son the moment they met at the Hogwarts Express.

He remembered having little Harry in his arms gurgling on his drool in trying to pronounce Remus's nickname. Remus would always offer to lift him from Lily's whenever her arms were tired, when Harry was at that stage where he was beginning to get heavy for her. He and Sirius would take turns, occasionally arguing who Harry liked the most to carry him. If Sirius never failed to make him giggle when he would carry Harry like a flying plane, Remus never failed to put Harry asleep or calm him down from his sobbing. Remus's heart would warm at the sight of such innocence being comfortable in his presence.

Lily would idly point out sometimes that Remus and Sirius were acting more of a married couple over Harry, rather than the fun uncles Harry was supposed to have.

This led to their new monikers:  _Dadfoot_  and  _Moomy_.

He didn't hear the end of it from Sirius for a week, much to Remus's secret amusement. Sirius might be old enough to be a godfather, but his maturity remained that of a kid's.

Try as he might to deny it, Remus was missing him terribly. Because somewhere in that prisoner of Azkaban was Sirius Black who had been one of Remus's best friends; the one who replaced his bandages at the wounds he sustained at his back during particularly difficult full moons; the one who would secretly slip him white truffles he received from his female fans on Valentine's Day, knowing they were Remus's favorite among all the chocolates; the one who Remus shared blankets with when Sirius was having terrible nightmares, asking Remus timidly to sleep beside him; the one whose gaze Remus would feel at the back of his head and then would grin back shyly when Remus caught him at it; the one whose touches briefly lingered when their fingers accidentally brushed, or their shoulders bumped.

The one Remus has his own private connection to, just like how and Sirius and James relate with each other. Though theirs was labeled brotherly, Remus never cared to name what was between him and Sirius.

Even if in the end, they were nothing but ruse for Sirius to gain their trusts.

Remus watched with pride as Harry took off on air at the back of the hippogriff. Remus had heard Harry made it to Gryffindor's Quidditch team. He knew then that Harry was a natural at flying just like James had been.

He didn't cry at the surge of emotion—no, he was done with it the night of James and Lily's death that Remus thought his tears was long dried out. Though his chest was twisting painfully, he smiled against it.

He was given a chance to teach Harry, and while their relationship might never surpass that of a student and a teacher, he would give his best to protect the boy like his own.

If it would come down to facing Sirius Black, then so be it.

…

Merlin was on his three-hour break before his next class when he was hit with an inspiration to use his pensieve.

He had convinced himself to own one a few decades back. Not that he was having problems with his memory, but when one was at least a millennium old, he found it difficult to keep up with all their memories. In Merlin's case, where he created different identities for himself and each lived a lifespan of a mortal, he got into the habit of recording his experiences, including even the most mundane ones. Occasionally, he would look back at some his recollections and would be reminded of the simple things in life that made him happy. On most times, he would watch his memories of adventures as Prince Arthur's servant.

He decided to view a few selected memories on his days as Arthur Collins. During his second stay as a student in Hogwarts, he was a Ravenclaw Prefect under that name and was the uncle of his current persona, William Emrys, as what he told Lupin (which hopefully Lupin bought). Although his second time at Hogwarts was much of an experience as his first, there weren't much collection of memories on that particular time of his. Maybe this was also due to what Lupin mentioned about Arthur Collins trying not to stand out much, something Merlin wasn't aware he had consciously done then.

Merlin's interest was piqued by a memory stored in a vial labeled  _b.b. 1976_. If his math was correct, he was on his seventh year by that time.

Pouring the contents, the memory clouded the surface of pensieve in an instant. And with a deep breath, Merlin plunged in.

It was dusk when Merlin found himself in an empty hallway where Arthur Collins was walking alone, carrying a few textbooks on potion-making and two literature books:  _The Little Prince_  and  _Titus Andronicus._ Merlin remembered thoroughly enjoying those.

As Merlin followed his younger self, there appeared to be nothing out of ordinary just yet. He walked beside Arthur until they arrived at the dungeons, stopping in a vacant potions classroom.

There was another student waiting inside, a boy younger than Arthur—a year or two, perhaps—with light brown hair and mildly scarred face. Amber eyes perked up from a book upon Arthur's arrival, and it was then that everything clicked to place in Merlin's head.

"Hello, Remus, you're early," Arthur commented, closing the door behind him.

"Hello, Arthur," the other boy greeted back, smiling.

Merlin couldn't believe what he saw. He did know Lupin after all! Lupin must be a fifth year by that time, also a prefect. Merlin watched in fascination at seeing the younger version of his fellow professor, patiently listening to every instruction Arthur was telling him. They were making a babbling beverage, it seemed (which explained the label of the memory), with Arthur guiding the young Lupin on how to properly brew it.

They finished within an hour, and with amusement Merlin noted how nervous Lupin looked while Arthur inspected the cauldron.

"I'm really bad at potions," Lupin admitted glumly.

Arthur hummed noncommittally. "I think that's why I'm here to aid you. And I'm honored that you asked me to." He smiled at Lupin as he leaned lightly to the bubbling mixture, smelling it. "I think you did well on this one." He nodded to himself. "Though as for the effectiveness, I think I should give this a try to see if it works. If it is, then you can submit this to Professor Slughorn."

"No!" Lupin exclaimed suddenly. "I mean, I know how terrible I am at this. What if I accidentally poisoned you?"

Arthur chuckled. "Then I'll have to risk it, don't I?"

"I'd rather you don't. I think I should be the one to test this."

Lupin snatched the glass with the freshly made babbling beverage, emptying it in one gulp. Lupin was clearly an expert in hiding the taste of the potion.

"Are you okay?" Merlin's younger self asked with concern after Lupin fell silent.

Lupin nodded absently. "Yeah, I am... Well, I  _am_  alright after the potion but on everything else? Not much." He sighed. "I always worry for my grades at this subject. Do you know that I was tempted to ask Snape first? I may not be participating with James and Sirius's bullying of him, but I don't stop them either, so I know he hates me too. I was desperate to pull my grades, and while Professor Slughorn is understanding enough, I keep wondering what would have happened if I have a different potions professor instead. My friends are not really fond of him, with his rubbing elbows all that, and Sirius in particular is calling him an opportunist—the nicest of the nicknames he has for Professor Slughorn. Oh, well, it's not like my friends don't do that to the other professors they don't like. Sometimes, I don't know whether to blame myself for not grounding them down. I always feel like I'll betray them if I scold them for their undesirable manners, since, to me, they're the best friends I could only dream to have before. I'm not a sociable person, and I wasn't expecting to make friends when I entered Hogwarts. But by some miracle, I got to know James, Sirius, and Peter, and they're the best. Lily Evans, a fellow prefect, became my friend as well. She's such a sweet girl that sometimes I wonder if she has this hidden personality reserve for James alone. Though James isn't exactly helping his case in wooing her either, if it can be called that. But what do I know? I'm hardly an expert in that subject. Out of the four of us, I'm the least popular with the females. Even Peter beats me at that department. Did you know that the Smith twins have taken a particular liking to him? Apparently, they find Peter's chubby face and flabby body—their words, not mine—cute, and that he has these love handles, whatever those are… Oh my, they're not offensive words, are they? Or, I don't know, other terms for body parts— _Merlin,_ don't tell me a love handle means a peni—"

Merlin burst out laughing the same time his counterpart at the memory did. It stopped Lupin from babbling, making him flush darkly in embarrassment.

"I think we can safely say that the potion works," Arthur Collins said with mirth. "I didn't know you can speak that long with barely a pause," he added teasingly.

Lupin went much redder, burying his face on his palms and refusing to speak. Merlin was sure his face would explode at how ruddy he was. Arthur Collins found this funny as well, chuckling behind his fist.

"Alright, you can stop laughing now," Lupin said with a defeated tone. He peered at Arthur hesitantly. "Not that I'm saying you have a terrible laugh. In fact, you look younger when you do. Your cheekbones lift when you smile, and you get this healthy color on your skin. It's a breath of fresh air from your usual distant looks and the way you regard everything like a wise old man. Smiling or laughing freely suits you better than that thing you do out of politeness to anybody else. Oddly enough, I catch myself staring at you often times, and I hope I don't sound creepy, but I just really, really like looking at your face, and I think—"

"Remus!" a new voice called, entering the potion classroom with a loud thud of the door against the wall.

Merlin didn't get the chance to register what Lupin said. He blinked at the three newcomers and concluded that these were Lupin's best friends. The smallest, with a round figure, must be the Peter Lupin mentioned. Looking at Peter's left, Merlin's breath was caught in his throat when he found two recognizable people—one resembled Harry Potter greatly, if not for the eyes— _of course, James… James Potter_ , and the person beside Harry's father stood with an air of insolence that was very prominent on his handsome features—something that was hugely overshadowed in the present time with all his years in Azkaban.

It was Sirius Black.

Merlin was immediately assaulted with an overwhelming thought that he was viewing a valuable memory; for him, anyway, with how befuddled he was with Sirius Black's identity and how Harry Potter fit in the connection. Merlin's mind reeled in at the pieces of information dropped at his lap in one go. He had long acknowledged that Loki was better at him in this aspect, and the trickster was the person to always think complicatedly between the two of them.

Merlin returned to the memory and was met with a subtle glare from Sirius Black directed to Arthur Morgan.

"'Sup, Collins," James said to Arthur with familiarity. And really, his resemblance with Harry stopped at their physical attributes, with the way he talked to Merlin's other self like they were close friends. "Can we borrow Remus now? Marauders meeting can't start with an absent member."

 _Right. Marauders… The troublemakers._ What an apt name, Merlin thought amusedly.

Arthur, who appeared to be oblivious of the sudden hostility (Merlin wondered where it came from), grinned knowingly at Lupin, whispering, "Seems like your friends are here to fetch you."

Lupin was prompted to arrange his things back to his bag once Arthur began clearing the equipment from the table. Before leaving, Arthur handed him the sample of the potion Lupin made, reminding him to drop it at Professor Slughorn's office.

"The babbling beverage will wear off after an hour," Arthur told Lupin. "But before then, I suggest you be careful of speaking." Lupin went scarlet once again at Arthur's conspiratorial wink he sent his way.

Arthur was left behind the potions classroom, watching with a lopsided grin as the Marauders leave with Lupin being bombarded by James and Peter with series of questions they knew Lupin would babble to them the answers of.

The funny thing was, only Merlin noticed the way Sirius Black immediately pulled Lupin to his side and didn't let go, hooking Lupin's arm to his elbow without Lupin knowing he did so.

For added measure, Sirius Black didn't forget to send Arthur Collins one last glower before he turned his back.

* * *

Loki collected every tome he could find in regards to the  _Ǫnd_  and  _Hugr_ , the two related subjects he deemed connected to what the Midgardians perceived as the human soul.  _Ǫnd_ was the breath, vital force, and spirit all at the same time. In Asgardian belief, the mind and will were at least associated with breath as well, with words holding power and representing a person, and with breath playing a role in magic.  _Hugr_ was the soul piece that was continuous with the body—not entirely unlike the idea of an aura that was a generally invisible part of a person and was attached to the body but could extend past it. It was associated with the thoughts, will, desires, and feelings of a person.

The trickster was delving into the part on how the splitting of one's soul was done when Thor unceremoniously barged in his room.

When he spared his brother a glance, Loki found Jörmungandr (in a normal snake size) wounded around Thor's neck.

Loki snapped the book shut. "What is Jörmungandr doing here?"

"His name is Jörmungandr?" Thor actually looked disappointed that Loki got to name him first. "Sif and The Warriors Three thought he was a huge monster residing on our favorite spot in the forest. Is he a friend of yours?" Thor asked, nudging fondly the snake. If he and Loki have something in common, it was their love for snakes.

"I brought him with me from Midgard." Loki beckoned Thor closer, extending a hand to Jörmungandr, in which the snake latched into without further ado.

"A fascinating creature. I saw him in his true form, and when he sensed us he reverted to this size." Thor's eyes never left the Jörmungandr. "I didn't know Midgard have basilisks."

Loki wisely kept to himself the remark that Thor actually knew what a basilisk was. "If I'm not mistaken, he's one of a kind." Loki brushed the shiny scales. "He's not exactly treated well there, starved and was used a weapon."

Jörmungandr has visibly improved in the few months he was living in Asgard's soil. The forest where Loki set him was rich in game and with a not too distant body of water. Loki taught him a few tricks as well, including the shifting from his originally large form to an average size (to help him mingle with the common adders), and vice versa.

"You've been gone for a while," Thor observed, pertaining to Loki's stay at Midgard. His older brother didn't have to know that he was teaching sorcery to Midgardian children. "I used to ask Heimdall what you were up to, and he would only tell me that you were being productive with your time."

That was one way to put it, Loki thought idly. "I was, and I might be back there soon."

"Anything interesting I should know?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Truly?" Thor asked, unconvinced. "I don't doubt what Heimdall said, but I was curious as to what you were doing. Still am."

It was their first time talking about it since Loki's return, and the trickster hardly expected to be confronted on his business. Usually, Thor didn't pay much attention to Loki's personal matters, as it should be.

" _He is nosy,"_ Jörmungandr said once Loki absently connected his mind to him.

" _My brother is known for that. He's an oaf."_

" _But you are fond of him."_

" _I am. Unfortunately."_

" _Why do you not wish to tell him the truth?"_

" _Because he'll consider getting rid of Voldemort as a grand mission. He won't even mind the casualty he can possibly cause."_

" _Then you two are very different."_

" _Obviously."_

"I was visiting a friend," Loki told Thor, in hopes that it would suffice.

"I didn't know you have a friend," Thor remarked, callous at the implication of his improper choice of words.

Loki snorted. Typical. "I do. He's a sorcerer as well."

Thor's eyebrows rose. "Earth has wizards now?"

 _Almost half of their population are practicing magic,_  Loki wanted to say. "They do."

"Do they still worship us as gods?"

 _I never bothered to find out._ "Some, perhaps."

Thor grinned proudly. "Then you'll have to bring me there with you some time, brother." He clapped Loki's back before turning to leave.

Loki was left with an impending headache from Thor's oversized ego.

The sooner he finished what he was searching for, the sooner he could return to Merlin's company.

* * *

On Halloween morning, Harry had never felt more depressed.

Ron and Hermione were both deeply sorry for him being unable to join them. Harry did his best to act normal; he was happy for them, though he wished he could be there to join his friends. It was even more depressing to think that he was the only third year who would be left at Hogwarts. It wasn't he didn't do all he could; he already appealed to Professor McGonagall, and not only was it proven futile, she also pitied him for having Muggle guardians like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

Harry tried to drone out the chatter of students making plans for their first visit at Hogsmeade. After accompanying Ron and Hermione to the entrance, he briefly saw Filch checking names off the list, peering suspiciously at every faces and keeping a watchful eye for any who might be sneaking out.

Harry returned glumly to the dormitories with nothing to occupy his time. He decided to do a light cleaning of his trunk, removing some trash and old exam papers from first year. Under the fold of two of his shirts, he found the small dagger Professor Loki left him.

He was also left with a leather holster for the blade and was told that it has its own enchantment to prevent the basilisk poison to seep through the leather and the fabric of Harry's clothes; consequently, keeping the poison fresh. When Harry unsheathed the blade, there was a shiver on his spine at holding a weapon that could just as easily kill him at wrong handling. It was a fine parting gift from Professor Loki—parting, because Harry was under the impression that Professor Loki would never return as their DADA professor, if the reputation of that position at being unable to keep a permanent instructor was to go by.

Just when he finally began warming up to him.

Harry remembered the meeting with Dumbledore after the event with the basilisk. As per Professor Loki's request, Harry didn't mention that his professor took home the basilisk. Harry wondered if Dumbledore believed the sword of Gryffindor killed the creature, not that Harry gave any affirmation to it. He merely handed to the Headmaster the diary and explained the encounter with the memory of Voldemort imbued in it.

He returned the blade to its previous place, carefully putting it at the bottom of the trunk. Harry lost the motivation to resume his cleaning after his recollection of the previous year's events. He exited to the common room and was eagerly invited by Colin Creevy to join him and his friends. Harry politely declined the invitation, saying he would have to go to the library to finish his homework.

As luck would have it, he met Filch halfway. Clearly, the caretaker was finally done seeing off the last of Hogsmeade visitors. He eyed Harry suspiciously, with an accusing tone when he asked what Harry was doing wandering the hallway.

Harry was in no mood to fight with Filch at this, truthfully saying that he was up to nothing. There really  _wasn't_ at the moment and for the next few hours at that. As expected, Filch didn't believe him.

"Oh, dear, is it the time already, Harry?" came a voice from behind Filch.

It was Professor Emrys, beaming at Filch pleasantly and apologetically smiling at Harry. "I kind of lost the time there. Sorry." He turned to Filch. "Don't worry, Mr. Filch. He's with me. I asked him to wait for me around this place since I came from the library."

Filch harrumphed, glaring at Harry until he and Professor Emrys were out of sight.

Harry turned to the history professor confusedly. "What was that, professor?"

Professor Emrys smiled kindly. "Sorry about that. I can't stand it when he's snapping at students, especially to those who are already gloomy." He looked at Harry knowingly.

There was no use to keep up a mask of casualty at his situation when he was around Professor Emrys. To Harry's relief, Professor Emrys didn't make a huge deal out of Ron and Hermione's absence. Instead, he asked Harry to come with him, saying he knew a place to pass the time. Harry, seeing as he has nothing to do for the meantime, followed without a word.

Professor Emrys knocked on the door of what previously was Professor Loki's office.

"Professor Emrys… and Harry," Professor Lupin said, smiling upon noticing the addition. "Why don't you two come in? I'm about to make tea."

Harry stood awkwardly before Professor Emrys nudged him gently in. He hesitated, feeling that he was intruding until Professor Emrys told him he would be needed later on.

"I only have tea bags, I'm afraid. Coffee for you, Emrys?"

"Sure. Harry?"

"I'm fine with tea," Harry murmured.

For a few minutes, there were only silence between the three of them until the kettle whistled. Harry was handed a chipped orange mug of tea, while Professor Emrys got a green one filled with steaming brown coffee. They quietly drank their beverages.

Harry's mind drifted back to the events before arriving at Hogwarts, of him accidentally performing magic at Aunt Marge, of him riding the Knight Bus, and knowing about the escaped prisoner, Sirius Black. A wild thought made itself known: telling his professors about the dog he saw at Magnolia Crescent. He decided not to, not wanting to appear like a coward; to Professor Lupin especially, after he refused let Harry face the Boggart.

"Anything worrying you, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry answered without thinking. Oh, well, too late to back down. "That first day you introduced us to a Boggart," he paused. "Why didn't you let me fight it?"

Professor Emrys respectfully didn't stare, looking far away at the window of the office.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," Professor Lupin said, surprised himself.

Harry was taken aback when the DADA professor explained further. Professor Lupin thought that the Boggart would take Voldemort's shape, and that it would have caused panic if he materialized at the staff room. Harry almost missed the offhanded way Professor Lupin mentioned Voldemort's name, but he missed Professor Emrys's quirk of the lips behind his mug. When Harry finally admitted that his fear would have likely take the shape of a Dementor, Professor Lupin thought him wise that Harry's fear was fear itself.

Professor Emrys's knowing smile made itself known, and suddenly, Harry's mood lifted, being left out for Hogsmeade momentarily forgotten.

"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?" Professor Lupin asked lightly.

"Well… yeah," Harry mumbled, embarrassed. "Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

At Professor Lupin's  _come in_ , Snape bounded inside, carrying a goblet with its content mildly smoking. His dark eyes narrowed at the sight of Harry and Professor Emrys, making the latter smile pleasantly at Snape in greeting.

"I was showing them my Grindylow," Professor Lupin said as Snape's gaze wandered back and forth between the three of them.

Harry had no idea there was a Grindylow in a tank of water in a corner. Snape didn't look at it, reminding Professor Lupin to drink his concoction and that he made a cauldronful should Professor Lupin need more.

Snape left unsmiling after Professor Lupin thanked him.

Harry's eyes landed curiously at the goblet and wondered with worry as to what its contents might be knowing Snape was into the Dark Arts. It was no secret how badly he wanted the DADA position. Professor Lupin sensed Harry's unease but was rather lax when he managed to coax Harry's concerns out of him. Harry even wanted to knock the goblet away from Professor Lupin when the latter drank it all in huge gulps, pulling a mildly disgusted face at the taste.

Professor Emrys, who has been fairly quiet since entering the office, clapped his hand together cheerfully. He placed a thin box on the coffee table and removed its contents—a board, two dices, a bunch of cards, and bronze pieces where the three looked like a thimble, a ship, and a top hat, while there were thirty-two that seemed like little houses and twelve buildings.

The box was labeled  _Monopoly_ , causing Professor Lupin to perk up in interest, leaning closer to the table.

"Are you familiar with this, Harry?" Professor Emrys asked. Harry shook his head. It wasn't like he was acquainted with games after growing up to the Dursleys. "This is a Muggle board game, Monopoly," the history professor told him pleasantly. "Professor Lupin told me he has been meaning to play this. You see, this is a real-estate board game for two to eight players, in which the player's goal is to remain financially solvent while forcing opponents into bankruptcy by buying and developing pieces of property. It's like being a business man, and you have to think strategically to avoid getting bankrupt yourself. You'll like this."

"I'm not… I don't really know the rules that much, sir," Harry said honestly. Besides, he has a feeling that he would look like an utter idiot playing against two professors of his.

"It's alright, Harry, even I don't know it much as well," Professor Lupin said gently. "Though I think Professor Emrys here will be fair enough to us while guiding us through the gameplay. Think of it as a challenge, Harry."

Harry couldn't say no to Professor Emrys's expectant look, therefore nodding in agreement. He was handed the bronze thimble, a token that would serve as his avatar, he was told. As the person with the least knowledge of the game's inner working, he was given the chance to roll the dice first.

As the game progressed, Harry found himself getting the hang of it, and it wasn't long until he was too immersed at the game to pay attention to the time. It helped that his two opponents didn't go easy on him, making his strategy to push Professor Emrys first to bankruptcy more satisfying. Unfortunately, Professor Emrys recovered easily, landing Harry to jail on his next move. Occasionally, it was down to Professor Emrys and Professor Lupin until Harry could pay his bail.

Harry had fun, which was far from what he expected to have when he had seen his friends off to Hogsmeade.

When they finally decided to call it a day, after checking the time and finding there was only an hour left before the Halloween Feast, Harry was grinning and mind running when he returned to the common room and found Hermione and Ron already back. They recounted their visits much jovially after seeing Harry in good mood, and in return Harry told them of the Monopoly game he had with his two professors.

They went to the feast together, where on their way, Harry remembered Snape bringing a potion to Professor Lupin. Even his friends have terrible suspicions as to what it might be. It made Harry watch Snape surreptitiously during the feast, and he noted dimly how Snape seemed to be glancing at Professor Lupin too often. Professor Lupin, meanwhile, was looking as healthy as Harry had last seen him an hour ago, talking animatedly to Professor Emrys who was sitting beside him.

The feast finished with an entertainment by the Hogwarts ghosts, with Nearly Headless Nick doing a funny reenacting of his own failed beheading, rendering it not scary at all.

Harry felt like nothing could spoil his good evening after the sumptuous feast, even if he did receive a few insults from the Slytherin table, calling him out on his fainting at the Hogwarts Express. Really, it was getting old.

They were on their way to the Gryffindor Tower, following the rest of the Gryffindors, when they stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady jammed with students.

Percy came through the crowd until he reached the portrait. Harry tried to peer over the heads but was unable to make out what the fuss was about. It wasn't until silence spread from the front of the crowd and a chill fell over them when Harry suddenly felt dread on his stomach.

A student quickly went to Dumbledore after Percy's sharp order. Next moment, the Headmaster was there, sweeping towards the portrait as the crowd made room for him. The trio used it to squeeze through the throng to see for themselves what the matter was.

Hermione gasped, grabbing Harry's arm as they saw the shredded canvas of the Fat Lady. It was torn viciously, with the strips littering the floor while some were pulled off completely. The Fat Lady was nowhere to be found.

Professors McGonagall, Lupin, Emrys, and Snape arrived soon. Dumbledore tasked the Deputy Headmistress to find the caretaker, Filch, to search for the Fat Lady among the castle's paintings.

As if on cue, Peeves cackling voice came, in delight at the sight of wreckage of the Fat Lady's portrait. Though his grin faltered when he was directly, and calmly, addressed by Dumbledore as to the whereabouts of the Fat Lady. Peeves told of the Fat Lady's flight, in an unconvincingly sympathetic tone of his, to the fourth floor landscapes.

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves said, deliberately not going straight to the answer. "You see, he was very angry when she wouldn't let him in." He leaned to the Headmaster, mock-whispering, "That Sirius Black got a nasty temper, doesn't he?"

* * *

Lupin felt an abrupt change in Emrys.

It wasn't what he would consider threatening, but the unwarranted change in the younger professor's demeanor around him left Lupin perplexed. He did give Emrys the benefit of the doubt and concluded that he was just another young adult who wanted to earn the approval of those older than him.

And yet when Lupin looked closely, it was far from that. In fact, he treated Lupin with the generosity of that of an old friend. Lupin knew Emrys has no idea of his condition, and that it wasn't pity or anything resembling that. And Lupin, with his years spent secluded from socializing and forming relationships, craved the friendship Emrys was extending to him. So Lupin let him in, and at the same time putting a cautious distance. He knew too well that should Emrys caught wind of his lycanthropy, the young professor would bolt out of his association with him without hesitation. While the faculty was kind to him in general, only a handful would hazard a close friendship with him.

They began a weekly ritual of having tea by the end of the week, discussing mostly about the students. Emrys often mentioned those who were bullied in his class and never failed to voice his dislike for bullying. This inadvertently brought Lupin back to his own Hogwarts days and had him wondering that if he had been better at grounding his friends back then, or at least asked them to lay off from Snape, perhaps he and Snape would be in a more decent standing rather than the Potions Master merely tolerating him for the sake of Dumbledore. Lupin wasn't under the illusion either that Snape wouldn't underhandedly try to sabotage Lupin's post.

Lupin admired Emrys's blatant disregard of Snape's undesirable personality. While Lupin could explain how he could act civil against Snape's sneers and contempt for him, he didn't understand Emrys's reasoning behind his behavior. Initially, Lupin thought Emrys was making fun of Snape, until Emrys proved that he was serious in  _introducing a bit of sunshine to Professor Snape_ (Emrys's own words). Lupin was both thoroughly amused and fascinated at the boldness of that statement.

Emrys was a brilliant young man. Lupin would always enjoy the company of an intellectual, and, amazingly, it was as if he was the one learning in every discussion he has with him; without a doubt, Emrys was a good professor. Though what Lupin admired in this young man the most was his wisdom. For his age, Emrys was wise and firm on his beliefs and principles—it was difficult to find those qualities in people nowadays. Emrys was open-minded to different perspectives and was always willing to listen to others' point of view.

Lupin tested him once, on a whim, on how he viewed the Ministry's approach on werewolves. Personally, Lupin had felt silly to do so, though he wouldn't deny how he felt touch at Emrys's disapproval on how the rules were applied to those who were deemed different, saying that dark creatures or not, they were still people just like any ordinary wizards and Muggles were. Lupin remembered basking on that acceptance, a tad superficial of him it might be, before convincing himself that Emrys was still a young man, and like everybody else like him he retained that naiveté from easy childhood.

When the week before his first full moon upon returning to Hogwarts came, Lupin declined Emrys's company in fear that the wolf would react badly at Emrys, remembering clearly how the wolf had growled as if it was about to take over on his first encounter with Emrys. Granted, the wolf lingered close to the surface a day after the full moon, but Lupin had also suspected it has something to do with Emrys's presence as well. The wolf was the one who could sense a great deal on harmful intents, which had Lupin reflect for days whether it was saying something on Emrys's intention in acquainting with him.

His transformation was less painful than the previous, with minimal bites and scratches due to being under the Wolfsbane potion. Though his human mind was aware while he was a werewolf, he would forget what may have happened while he was in that form. When Lupin found himself cocooned with a red and gold quilt enchanted to keep him warm, he racked his brain for what might have occurred the night of the full moon. He got none, except the lingering smell of another person at his office where he spent the full moon sleeping as a werewolf.

Lupin paled because while he became familiar with that scent not long ago, he was also aware that he never invited the person to his office for a week now.

When Madame Pomfrey was finished checking him post-transformation, it dawned to Lupin that he had seen the last thread of his friendship with that wonderful young man. Lupin was getting tired of making connections and witnessing them end the same way.

But Lupin had to know—he had to know at least what prompted Emrys to come see him at the office. He realized that he knew nothing of Emrys at all, and he might have not known whether Emrys took pleasure in watching a dark creature in pain. There was an ugly twist in his stomach, and Lupin felt more terrible than during the full moon.

He confronted Emrys once he was well-rested to take him on. And Lupin… he remembered too well how Emrys beamed in relief at the sight of him.

Lupin's resolve crumbled on the spot, getting more conflicted each passing second at not being shunned or feared.

"Why?" he managed to croak pitifully.

Emrys seemed to know what he meant. "I think the clues were there, but I wasn't sure," he confessed.

Although Lupin was glad he was given honesty, he was furious. "Did you know how dangerous that was? What if wasn't under the potion? I could have torn you to shreds!"

There. He had said it. It was never about his identity being risked to more people and instead about another life in danger at his presence.

"Sit down, will you? This will be a long story," Emrys said gently, but in a firm tone that left no room for argument. Lupin had never heard him use it before, and Lupin was certain Emrys didn't use it often.

Emrys prepared him a chamomile tea and told him a story of a friend. Lupin quietly listened with no strength to pick apart Emrys's words, even if it was obvious there was more to the tale he was sharing. Emrys mentioned having a friend, once, with the same condition as Lupin's. He didn't mention lycanthropy specifically, only that it was far worse (Lupin couldn't imagine what could be worse than being a werewolf). Emrys had seen his late friend in him, he said, and reminded Lupin that, no, he wasn't a pity project that he was into just to absolve him of guilt at being unable to save his friend.

"I may not know it firsthand how you feel, but I want to understand and be there because it's the least I can do."

Lupin knew he was defeated when he buried his face on his palms with nothing to say at that sincere declaration. More than anything, he was surprised and elated; surprised at how easily the argument died in him, while elated at the semblance of a relationship he used to have with the Marauders who stood with him though the worst of the full moons. Lupin was no longer a child and so he let go of the childish hope that everything would be back at how it used to be before the first war, when he and his friends were happily secured at Hogwarts and when the most of their worry was escaping from Filch.

He set his focus on the present, where there was one person selflessly asking him to cling on unconditionally.

The least Lupin could do was to hold on tight and be optimistic.

"Remus," Emrys's called softly, his voice shaking Lupin back to the present.

Lupin smiled tiredly, slumping to the wall outside the Great Hall where all the students were camping. "Emrys."

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," was Lupin's clipped reply. There were still some things that he was having difficulty to share to Emrys. "Did they find him?"

Emrys shook his head. "I don't think the Headmaster expected Sirius Black to linger within the castle grounds."

True. Sirius was too smart for that. "Well, who knows?"

"There was a suspicion of an insider help," Emrys said quietly, his back falling against the wall beside Lupin.

Lupin wouldn't put it past Snape. "It is a possibility." He peered at Emrys. "Do you believe that?"

"No, I don't think he went in with an aid from an insider."

Lupin smiled ruefully at the surety of the reply. "There are the Dementors if you're insinuating he put on a disguise."

"You know it doesn't necessarily mean a disguise," Emrys said pointedly but not accusing. "As the Muggles saying goes— _if there's a will, there's a way._ "

Nothing could have been more proper to describe Sirius's attitude to challenges. Lupin sighed, catching himself reminiscing again.

"We'll be up for more hours. Coffee?" Emrys offered, kindly setting aside the topic of Sirius Black.

Lupin was grateful, in more ways than one. "Lead the way."

* * *

"How is he?" Merlin asked the Mediwitch, glancing at an unconscious Remus.

The transformation wasn't particularly difficult with the help of Wolfsbane, but the wolf has been uneasy since Sirius Black's visit.

"He'll be alright with plenty of rest," Madame Pomfrey assured him. "And you will make sure that he doesn't push himself too much once he wakes up. I'm sure you know how hardworking Remus can be."

"You forgot stubborn," Merlin suggested.

Madame Pomfrey hummed in agreement. "Yes. Yes, he is," she murmured. "Since he was a kid. You couldn't even take this man away from his prefect duties." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"How was his transformations when he was a student?" Merlin asked, knowing full well that Wolfsbane wasn't easily acquired back then.

"Sometimes when he was unable to come down here with his injuries, I go to the shack myself," she recalled. "Eventually, he got past that phase when got best friends of his own. They might be troublemakers, a bit noisy too during visitation hours, but they were loyal to Remus so often times I don't kick them out."

Merlin didn't doubt that after seeing those people himself from the pensieve.

Madame Pomfrey finished a moment later, leaving with a final reminder to Merlin and saying she would be back in a bit, expecting Remus to be still asleep.

Amused, Merlin turned to Remus. "She's gone now, you know."

"I feel betrayed," Remus said wearily under closed eyelids.

"Nah, she's looking out for you."

"You seem to get on her good graces. Only a few can manage that."

"She knows how valuable I am in ensuring you get enough rest," Merlin replied sagely. "Chocolate?"

"Yes, please."

"Hmm. Madame Pomfrey will be after my arse for this." Merlin broke a slab and shared the half to Remus. "Look at me, getting you sugar-high."

"She will be after the  _both_ of us," Remus corrected before proceeding to munch on the chocolate.

"Something tells me that is your goal."

"You got me."

…

Merlin and Remus's light banter resulted to Madame Pomfrey scolding Merlin for disturbing Remus's sleep, which in turn caused her to ask, in that reprimanding mother tone of hers, what in the world was Remus doing awake and eating chocolates.

As Madame Pomfrey ushered Merlin out after deeming him unhelpful, a pair of gray eyes watching by the window of the hospital wing went unnoticed.

* * *

When Remus told Merlin of Harry asking for lessons on how to defend oneself from Dementors, Merlin couldn't help but feel he was being studied by Remus. What he was hoping to catch on Merlin, Merlin has no idea. Though he has an inkling that it has something to do with his encounter with a Dementor at the Hogwarts Express.

Had Remus actually saw him obliterating one?

If Merlin was indeed seen, Remus made no mention of it. Perhaps hoping to hear it from Merlin himself. How could Merlin possibly explain himself though? No ordinary wizard nor known spell could destroy a Dementor in a single strike. He didn't wish to have Remus be suspicious of him because of the secrets Merlin kept, but it wasn't like he could tell him he was  _the_  Merlin either.

One of the boundaries of their friendship was not prying on each other's pasts. Merlin never asked Remus about the Marauders, and Remus respectfully didn't ask of Arthur Collins again. They would rather think that they prefer to live in the present.

Remus would be teaching Harry on making a Patronus right after the Christmas break, due to the full moon during the break. Merlin was invited to come along, with Remus staring at him knowingly when he suggested to be there since Merlin might also know a thing or two about banishing Dementors. Merlin declined, using the excuse that Harry might not feel comfortable with another professor present and witnessing his fears.

Merlin's mind was abruptly occupied with the boy. Harry shouldn't be worrying on matters such as this. He should be out here with his friends, enjoying Hogsmeade visits and not stressing over Dementors and Sirius Black coming after him.

Knowing Harry was again wandering alone in Hogwarts, Merlin decided to quickly finish his Christmas shopping so he could have the time to invite Harry with a game of  _Battleship_  to pass the time; Remus too if he was up for it.

Merlin was passing by the Shrieking Shack when he could make out four people not far from the shack. He squinted his eyes and saw Crabbe, Goyle, with Nott—if Merlin wasn't mistaken—and Draco.

A very furious Draco running the other three off.

Crabbe and Goyle went past Merlin without stopping, followed by Nott who was cackling when the stone Draco threw at him missed.

Draco grabbed a larger stone lying around to try again but stopped upon seeing Merlin. He looked away, stricken, without acknowledging Merlin's presence. He threw the rock on his hand angrily at another direction.

"Draco?" Merlin approached tentatively.

"Sir," Draco grounded out, his voice low.

"What happened?"

Weakly, he gestured at the Shrieking Shack, and at first Merlin thought Draco was asking to go in. Though upon coming closer, he realized it wasn't the case after he saw what Draco was pertaining to.

It was a dog, large and black and was looking weak. There was a long gash from its forehead to the back of its ear.

"Oh, dear." Merlin stooped low at the canine, and was met, albeit with wobbly legs, a warning growl from the dog. "It's alright. I won't hurt you," he said to it. Dogs were intelligent animals, and he knew he was understood by some degree when Merlin opened his palms in surrender, placating the dog.

"I didn't know where Crabbe and Goyle went when they separated from me to come with Nott," Draco began. "But I managed to follow them shortly and saw them kicking and throwing rocks at Snuffles."

"Snuffles?"

Draco's pale cheeks darkened briefly. "Him. The Hogsmeade dog."

"Oh. Does his wound come from them?"

"I think so. Snuffles was too weak to move from the spot. It's the cold, probably. When I arrived, Nott was trying to set alight a firecracker. That sick bastard," Draco muttered angrily.

"We'll let Hagrid deal with them, alright?" Merlin assured Draco, patting him on his back. "And Snuffles here is fortunate that you came just in time."

Snuffles weakly approached Draco, muzzling his leg affectionately, which Merlin took as the dog's way of saying thanks.

"Well, we can't leave him here, can we? He doesn't have a house to shield him from the weather and his injuries have to be treated." Merlin hummed. "I know a place."

"Where?"

"Hagrid's," Merlin said after telling Snuffles that he would be placing a warming charm on his fur and that he would have to walk with them to Hogwarts. "He'll know what to do."

Snuffles walked more closely beside Draco. Merlin noted with amazement how intelligent the dog was, far beyond the usual brilliance of an average canine since Snuffles could understand human language easily.

He faintly wondered what Loki would have found if he connected his mind with Snuffles.

As expected, Hagrid fussed over Snuffles. He used one of the present Merlin had given him at the start of the term, and within minutes Snuffles's scratches and wounds were healed.

Draco stayed at the whole duration of it, making Merlin secretly smile at how fast the boy became attached with the dog.

"Do you have a pet, Draco?" Merlin asked conversationally.

"No. I'm not allowed to have one," Draco said, eyes not leaving Snuffles wolfing down the food served to him and Fang.

Merlin noted how friendly Fang was to a stranger of his kind. Hagrid must have trained him well. "I see."

It would explain Draco's attitude towards Snuffles.

Once Hagrid settled down his armchair, it was only then that he noticed who came with Merlin.

"Malfoy?" Hagrid asked before he could stop himself. "Er, I mean, hello ter yeh, Mister Malfoy. Tea?"

Draco nodded weakly at the offer even if he looked like he was ready to bolt out any second.

"Draco here defended Snuffles from Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott," Merlin told Hagrid proudly.

Hagrid's expression promised a deduction for harming an innocent dog.

"And I think Draco would also like to ask whether he can visit Snuffles if he can."

"I do?"

"He does?" Hagrid asked, surprised when he regarded Draco. His gaze softened, as if he was seeing the boy in a new light. "Of cours' yeh can. Anytime. I nev'r had another student ter visit me 'sides Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Yeh can come 'long, Mister Malfoy."

Draco looked hesitant before nodding. "It's Draco… sir."

"None of tha' now. It's Hagrid."

Snuffles barked approvingly from his food, as if he completely understood the conversation, making the three of them laugh.

* * *

"Do you know him, sir? Do you know Sirius Black?"

Lupin should have expected the question after opening his mouth and telling Harry that he knew James and was friends with him. He couldn't help it, he supposed—he couldn't help asking if Harry indeed heard James in his Dementor-induced unconsciousness. Merlin help Harry, he heard even Lily too. Lupin could only imagine how Harry must have felt hearing his dead parents and their confrontation with Voldemort.

"What gives you that idea?" Lupin asked, purposely taking his time to close the packing case. He was grateful for the dim lighting of the History of Magic classroom Emrys had generously lend them. The room was large, and the only light they have wasn't enough to reach Lupin's face clearly.

"You mentioned that you knew my father, so I thought…"

Lupin's elation at Harry's successful attempt at making a wisp of a non-corporeal Patronus was immediately swallowed by bitterness. "I do know him... At least, I thought I did."

He sent Harry off as it was getting late. He realized sadly that his last meeting before the holidays with Harry ended in a not so pleasant conversation regarding Sirius. He figured that Harry had already found out about Sirius's lesser known crime—betraying the Potters to Voldemort. And Harry… Harry thought Sirius deserved the Dementor's kiss. He wished it to be done to  _his_  godfather, the person he used to gurgle happily at when he was lifted high in the air when he was an infant.

There has always been a part of him that keep refusing to acknowledge that Sirius did just that, and that part of him wouldn't be acknowledging it anytime soon unless he heard it from Sirius himself. But who was he kidding? He never made the effort to see Sirius in the first place since he was taken away by the Aurors. Dumbledore made no advice of it to him, therefore Lupin took it upon himself to be left wallowing in his own regrets and loneliness in the past twelve years. He knew it wasn't healthy to not have the closure, but what else would die within him? More than half of him was long gone with James, Lily, and Peter. Should he risk what remained to be only laughed at by Sirius?

 _Black,_ Lupin corrected himself, because Sirius already died with his other friends.

* * *

Then night Sirius Black was reported to be sighted  _inside_ the Gryffindor Tower, Merlin was rudely awakened by insistent knocks on his door.

It was Professor Flitwick who came to fetch him. Upon reaching Dumbledore, they were both ordered to search the castle once again. But Merlin knew, not for the lack of trying, that the search would be fruitless, just like it was on Sirius Black's previous sighting at Hogwarts.

Instead, Merlin looked for Remus who looked a little worse for wear. Of course, Remus was affected too, more than anybody else, because he was concerned for both Harry and Sirius. Merlin knew Remus wasn't letting go of the notion that his best friend was still there, as hard as he tried to treat Sirius Black with indifference. But Merlin was there to see Remus's reaction upon the news of Ministry giving permission to perform the Dementor's Kiss on Sirius Black if found. While Remus was good at hiding his real feelings, Merlin didn't have to imagine the torrent of emotions behind his careful expression.

"Remus."

"Emrys." The DADA professor looked at Merlin distractedly. "Did they find him?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. They won't find him. Not in Hogwarts, at least."

"What makes you so sure?" Remus said shortly.

"Because we both know he's not that stupid."

Merlin watched as his words sank in. Remus's face was carefully blank when he said, "You suspect me."

Merlin shook his head defiantly. "No, I don't," he said, much softer. "I trust you, Remus."

"You don't know me for too long. Just because you know what I become once in a month—"

"You're a dark creature so I'm supposed to think the worst if you? I may not know for myself how you feel, but I can see how it affects you. All of this thing about Sirius Black." Merlin gestured wildly around him.

Remus hung his head low, defeated.

"And I don't blame you if you feel conflicted," Merlin continued gently. "I'm not so good at handling betrayal by a friend either."

"And I should be, because I had twelve years to think it through and accept it," Remus whispered. "And there's also Harry's life on the line. Why should there be a doubt in me when Sirius's actions make it clear that he's after Harry? I don't want to be weak when I finally see him. I don't want to be weak because I might not be able to stop him from finishing Harry."

Merlin's mind flashed the memory he had seen and remembered the glower Arthur Collins received by that fiery boy who never let Remus leave his side, how Sirius Black's arm had curled possessively before leaving.

And— _oh, oh, it all makes sense now._

"Do you believe that? Do you believe that escaped Azkaban just to kill Harry?"

"No," Remus said, as if his decisiveness was making him want to sob. "No, I don't."

It was enough for Merlin.

* * *

The examination week began with Harry feeling positive after moving from an impasse on his anti-Dementor lessons with Professor Lupin.

He had successfully made a Patronus mid-Quidditch match. Although there was no real Dementors then and only a bunch of stupid Slytherins hoping to sabotage his game—which Harry realized how oddly Malfoy wasn't a part of it—Harry felt proud of himself nonetheless. Professor Lupin too, knowing a Patronus wasn't a thirteen-year-old wizard standard magic, and Harry felt even more satisfied at his professor's approval.

Harry made sure to do his best at Defense Against the Dark Arts. And while Professor Lupin's exam was certainly unusual, making it seemed like an obstacle challenge of sorts, Harry enjoyed the challenge and got full marks.

His History of Magic written exam would be quite difficult if he wasn't paying attention in class, or if Binns was still the one teaching it. He and Ron fared well with their marks, and Harry had to give it to Professor Emrys and Hermione's loud reading to them. Defense Against the Dark Arts easily became Harry's favorite subject for the current school year, followed closely by History of Magic.

As long as the professors were like Professor Lupin and Professor Emrys, one could really get into studying.

Care of Magical Creatures wasn't far behind in Harry's ranking. Hagrid knew his stuff and his love for the creatures was infectious, aside, of course, his fondness for those who have a penchant for biting or setting fire on students' hairs. Overall, Hagrid was the best choice to be the instructor of the subject, and Harry was glad to see his friend happy with his teaching.

They were on their way to Hagrid, who had kindly invited them for tea as post-exam celebration of some kind, when Harry remembered his Potions and Divination exams. He was past the notion of expecting Snape to give him acceptable marks, if Harry finding out the thing about his father and Snape on their younger days was to be based on. He didn't know the full story yet, and, truthfully, he didn't really want to know and risk Snape's wrath (though, frankly, he was doing well with that with or without the knowledge). Harry recalled with regret how the Marauder's Map was confiscated, by Professor Lupin, no less, who Harry didn't want to be disappointed at him. His respect for Professor Lupin outweighed the desire to see Snape's reaction once again at the map's brilliant insults intended for Snape alone. Whoever Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were, Harry wanted to personally send his gratitude.

What made Harry unsettled though was Professor Trelawney's… prediction. Harry realized that he hasn't told Ron and Hermione yet how eerie her voice and expression had been then, and because of that Harry knew that what she told him was worlds different from reading from tea leaves and speculate wildly what the odd formations of the dregs could have meant. As much as Harry wanted to treat it as his professor's  _impressive_  way of ending the exam, her words kept resounding in his head.

" **Tonight, before midnight… the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master."**

Hermione made a small noise once they could see Hagrid's hut. "Is that Malfoy?"

Harry followed where her finger was pointing at, and, truly, they could see a blond boy leaving Hagrid's home.

"You don't reckon he's getting Hagrid in trouble, do you?" Ron asked worriedly, nudging Harry on his side. "You know how he is, his friends,  _and_ his father."

"Where are they though? His friends, I mean."

"He's alone," Hermione confirmed, stopping on her path when Malfoy was a few meters away from them.

Malfoy paused abruptly when he noticed them as well. Instinctively, he pointedly looked away with his chin held high when he passed them by without so much of an insult.

In fact, Malfoy didn't even bother to sneer.

Ron merely shrugged when Harry turned at him, puzzled.

When Hagrid received them, Malfoy was the first thing Harry asked about.

"Draco? Yeh saw 'im then." Surprisingly, Hagrid beamed at this. "He left a treat fer Snuffles. Quite expensive, I think." He gestured at a pack of biscuits at the table.

More questions sprang from what Hagrid said. Since when was Malfoy  _Draco_? "What was Malfoy doing here?"

"Oh, er, right. Yeh see, before Christmas, he an' Professor Emrys rescued an injured, big black dog. His name is Snuffles and they brought 'im here. Intelligent, that one."

Big black dog. Huh. Harry was reminded of the Grim that was making its appearance since he left the Dursleys. Could it be the same one?

"You mean it looks like the Grim?" Ron inquired for him.

"Grim? I suppos' yeh're right. He looks like the Grim. But he's not one, I'm sure. Snuffles is mighty brave. Braver than Fang, I reckon. An' he's also sweet that's why Draco is taken at 'im."

Harry wisely kept to himself that there were a lot of things wrong at that.

"Where's Snuffles now?"

"Jus' around the grounds. He likes playing outside at this hour an' usually comes back at ev'ning."

Unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to stay out that long with the curfew in place. Next time, Harry supposed.

Hagrid served them tea, asking about their exams and how they did. He also asked whether his own exam wasn't too difficult. They assured him that it was challenging, but not impossible, so was his classes for the whole school year. Hagrid was grateful for the positive feedback.

Hermione was about to pour some milk on her tea when she let out a shriek upon opening the jug.

"I can't believe it—Ron, it's Scabbers!"

She tipped over the jug where Ron's formerly known dead rat tumbled out, scampering around the table and squeaking to get back as if in hiding from them all.

Ron lifted the rat by the tail as it struggled. Scabbers looked worse than the last time they saw it—he was thinner and sporting bald spots on places. Ron pitied its state and assured it that Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, wasn't around to bother it.

"Been seeing 'im here for a while," Hagrid mused. "Only when Snuffles is out. The little fella must be scared of 'im." And Crookshanks, Harry wanted to add.

The sun has already set by the time Hagrid advised they return to the castle. Hagrid was reluctant to cut their meeting without being able to introduce Snuffles to them, but the need to get them back, especially Harry, was more pressing while Sirius Black remained on the run. The felon has been keeping it quiet for a while, but it wasn't a risk Hagrid was willing to take considering how easily he came in and out of the castle without being caught. Twice.

They sneaked back with the help of the invisibility cloak, walking slowly under the darkened skies.

Ron hissed at Scabbers who was wriggling madly as he forced him back to his pocket. The rat was restless for no apparent reason since leaving Hagrid's hut. Harry suspected it was traumatized still by Crookshanks and was paranoid to get back to the castle.

"Ouch! It bit me!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief.

"Quiet, Ron!" Hermione hissed. "What if somebody hears us?"

Scabbers struggled wildly at Ron's hold. It was terrified, wanting to break free from Ron's hand desperately. And when gold eyes slinked out of the dark, Harry thought he knew why.

Frustrated, Hermione shooed her cat. Harry wasn't sure whether Crookshanks could see them clearly or was merely following the squeaks, but the cat went closer, causing Scabbers to jump from Ron's grip with determination that wasn't common to rats.

Pulling the cloak from himself, Ron ran after the direction Scabbers scurried to, wading through the dark. Harry and Hermione were left with no choice but to follow Ron in a sprint as he went after his rat, wanting to beat Crookshanks into it.

Ron managed to get into Scabbers first, shooing the cat with a dirty look. The rat was a wriggling lump on his pocket. Panting, Hermione urged that they return under the cloak fast. Harry wasn't also liking the silence of the surroundings.

It was when the quiet sounds of heavy footfalls came, bounding towards their position before they could return under the cloak. It was an enormous jet-black dog moving like a shadow.

Before Harry could get his wand, it made a huge leap at him, hitting him square on the chest. At closer view, Harry could see its rows of white teeth, its breath hot on Harry's face. Indeed, it looked like the Grim from Harry's angle.

To his surprise, the Grim didn't stop to attack him but lunged to where Ron was. To their horror, the Grim snatched Ron by his extended arm, dragging him away like a ragdoll. Harry snatched a handful of its fur, and the Grim, with its large built, easily carried Harry as well, sending him skidding after them.

Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harry across his face, the lash forcing him to let go. Wincing at the impact, Harry could hear Hermione shrieking in pain.

Harry scrambled for his wand, lighting the area with a  _Lumos_. He could make out thick long branches swinging like whips as if in high wind.

They had chased Scabbers by the shadows of the Whomping Willow.

And there by gap between its roots was the Grim pulling Ron further underground. Ron made a vicious struggle, hooking his foot on a protruding root until there was a sickening crack of broken bone.

"Harry, we have to get help for Ron—"

"We don't have time! You see how large that dog is—it will finish Ron within minutes!"

"We can't get in without help!" Hermione insisted frantically.

Harry tried to look for any way they could enter as the whip-like branches cracked near them. If the dog could get in, so could they.

Hermione fidgeted helplessly, whispering for anybody to help them. Harry was doused with the feeling of frustration and helplessness as they stood with the seconds trickling by.

Crookshanks, who was forgotten in the whirl of panic, darted to the base of the Whomping Willow as if it heard Hermione's plea. His paw pressed on a knot on the trunk, causing the branches to stop as if frozen midair.

"Crookshanks? How did—"

"He's friends with that dog," Harry said grimly, remembering he had seen them together once. "Come. Ready your wand."

They followed Crookshanks, entering the earthy slope headfirst. Harry, with Hermione behind him, crawled at the long dark tunnel. If Harry was correct, the tunnel lead somewhere in Hogsmeade. It was included in the Marauder's Map, but Fred and George had admitted to have never ventured this place. Harry had a terrible feeling of déjà vu—entering dark tunnels wasn't known to end well for him, if his second year adventure to the Chamber of Secrets was to go by; if in the previous year, he and Ron have Professor Loki with them, now they didn't have the luxury of being accompanied by a professor.

Harry recalled his promise to Professor Emrys last year on not to confront the unknown without him or Professor Loki or at least any adult. While Professor Emrys might be pertaining to the Chamber of Secrets that time, Harry supposed it extended to him and his friends' penchant for finding trouble during the end of school years. Professor Emrys was sure to be disappointed in him, and maybe Professor Lupin would be too.

That was if they would get out of this alive.

Harry cursed his lack of forethoughtfulness. He should have kept with him at all times the dagger Professor Loki gave him since the threat of Sirius Black came. It would have been handy.

Crookshanks was first to reach the end, and when Harry exited the opening, he couldn't find the cat. He helped Hermione to her feet, and they both raised their wands to illuminate what lay beyond.

It was a shabby room with boarded windows and walls with chipped paint and ripped wallpapers. Every furniture was broken as though somebody smashed each. The room was deserted, and as Harry turned to check on Hermione, she grabbed his arm, whispering that they might be inside the Shrieking Shack. It did look haunted enough to be the famous haunted shack, but surveying the wooden chair near them with large chunks torn off Harry concluded that ghosts couldn't have done that.

The implication that there was a more  _solid_ creature lurking in the shack sent shivers down their spines. It was like the Chamber of Secrets all over again.

There was a creaking sound from upstairs, and with a silent agreement with Hermione, they crept up the dusty old wooden staircase. On the dark hallway of the second floor was a clean long swipe indicating that something had been dragged across it. There was only one door open to their right, where a low sound that resembled a moan and a deep, loud purring could be heard.

Sharing one last look with Hermione and wand held tight on his hand, Harry kicked the door wide open.

On a dusty four-poster bed sprawled Crookshanks, purring loudly at the newcomers. On the floor not far beside the bed was Ron who was unharmed aside from his leg stuck out in a weird angle.

Harry and Hermione went to him immediately.

"Ron, are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"It's not a dog," Ron said, pained, through gritted teeth. "Harry, it's a trap."

Color drained from Harry's face. "What?"

"He's the dog—He's an Animagus."

Harry whirled around to where Ron was looking at over Harry's shoulders. The door snapped close and revealed a man hiding behind it. Harry would have thought of it a corpse, if not for the gray eyes that were shining with life and yellow teeth bared in a feral grin.

It was Sirius Black.

…

Merlin knocked on Remus's office door an hour before the full moon.

He didn't expect to be answered, knowing by this time, Remus would be jittery and pacing around his office. To Merlin's surprise though, there was nobody inside when he entered.

Confusion flooded Merlin initially. Remus was always cautious to not leave his room by sundown. Merlin tasked himself to personally bring him dinner, with the meal consisted mostly of red meat per the wolf's craving.

When Merlin spotted the smoking goblet of Wolfsbane remained untouched, his puzzlement became alarm.

Merlin hastily set aside the tray he was carrying and wondered whether Snape was already on the lookout where Remus might be. It was highly likely, given Snape's suspicious nature to Remus. If Snape also stumbled upon Remus's empty office, he was sure to be on high alert. For once, Merlin thought Snape's dislike of Remus served a decent purpose.

Though where could Snape be at the moment? Had he gotten a clue somehow where Remus might be?

Merlin approached the desk where the goblet was perched. Sitting beside it was an open parchment with moving ink dots. Curious, Merlin picked it up for closer inspection.

It was a map—a detailed map of Hogwarts ground displaying the names of everybody in places indicated by dot marks. Fascinated, Merlin's eyes roam at every single hidden passages of the castle. He scanned the map further and found that in his current location, he was labeled  _Emrys_ on the map. Emrys, and nothing else, unlike the other names being shown on the parchment. Merlin suspected that the map showed the real names of each person, though he didn't know if it could be fooled with invisibility cloaks or Polyjuice Potions. With an idea in mind, Merlin searched for Remus's name.

Merlin's eyes widened at what he found—Remus was currently in the Shrieking Shack, and the names surrounding his were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, and a Peter Pettigrew.

Merlin stopped. He recognized the last name as one of Remus's best friends in his Hogwarts days, but the name was made popular with news articles related to Sirius Black's crimes. Peter Pettigrew was supposed to be dead, one of the people murdered at the hands of Sirius Black.

Scenarios formed in Merlin's mind unchecked, adrenaline pumping his veins at the series of theories running wildly in his head. Really, this would have been easier if Loki was here with him.

Merlin folded the parchment and placed it back where he picked it from. His eyes landed on the goblet of Wolfsbane potion. He knew he wouldn't make it in time, with the moon starting to peek from the clouds, but he could still prevent the disaster that was about to happen (if it hasn't yet) with the last three names in included in the fray.

His only hope was that he could reach Harry, Ron, and Hermione and pull them from possible harm's way.

…

When Merlin was halfway to his destination, a cloud shifted in the sky, revealing a bright full moon.

He ran quickly, knowing Remus began transforming without completing his week's intake of Wolfsbane. With the trio in his company, they were in the line of fire, so to say. Merlin knew Remus would never forgive himself if anything happened to them while the wolf was taking over, nor would he take it well if he found out he has blood on his hands.

Merlin arrived to the location of the frozen Whomping Willow, where the map said an entrance to the Shrieking Shack was located, and saw that Remus has already transformed. Snuffles was keeping the werewolf from attacking the children, his bear-like body large enough to be on par with the werewolf. Snape was standing mid-air, unconscious, behind Hermione who was close to Harry's back. Harry's wand was pointed threateningly to a balding round man who knocked Ron out cold with the wand he was holding. Harry yelled an  _Expelliarmus_ , rendering the other unarmed. It occurred to Merlin that the man was manacled to Ron.

And right before their eyes, the man turned smaller… and smaller… until there was a squeaking of a rat, scurrying on the grass towards Merlin's direction.

Merlin has no idea what was going on, but he could hazard a guess with what he witnessed. Not letting the rat to go past him, Merlin summoned thin binds from the ground, latching on the tail first before wrapping around the small body of the animal. Merlin's magic balled patches of grass to shape a sphere, enclosing the rat in. Forming a small simple cage on one hand, golden sparks escaped his fingers when he enhanced it with enchantment. He swiftly transferred the rat inside.

The rat squeaked loud, trying to break free of its cage. Possibly, it was also trying to revert back to its human form, only to find Merlin's magic hindering it.

"Of course, you have to be an Animagus," Merlin mused. He wouldn't put it past the clever Marauders. Merlin might be clueless, but there has to be a good reason why a man who was supposed to be dead turned out alive and kicking—attacking a student, no less. "I'll let the others handle you, Mister Pettigrew. Whatever your story might be." Merlin has his full trust on Remus and his decisions.

Merlin returned his attention on the scene. Snuffles has chased the werewolf to the woods for now, with Harry running after them.

"Harry!"

Merlin's voice halted the boy in his steps, also stopping Hermione from bolting after Harry.

"Professor Emrys!" Hermione was the first to run to Merlin. Out of huge relief, Hermione embraced him with her thin arms, sobbing. Merlin let her.

"What happened?" Merlin asked gently, his eyes finding Harry who was worriedly looking out to the path to the woods.

"Sorry, Professor, we don't have time. Sirius defended us from the werewolf, and he's heavily injured. He's already weak and thin. He'll be overpowered," Harry said without breathing. Merlin, miraculously, could follow what he said. In a much slower pace, with voice almost pleading, Harry added, "We already lost Pettigrew. We don't know how we could prove Sirius's innocence anymore. I don't want him to die as well."

Merlin presented to him the cage with Peter Pettigrew in. "Mister Pettigrew is here. I caught him on my way." Harry's eyes widened when Merlin handed the cage to an equally shocked Hermione. "I'll leave this to your hands, Miss Granger. Go straight to Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall.  _Nobody_  else. Explain to them the situation as clear as you could. They will understand immediately if you mention first that Mister Pettigrew is actually an Animagus."

Merlin tapped his wand lightly on Snape's head. "He's close to waking up," he explained. "It'll be disastrous if he wakes up in wrong timing. Don't worry, his body will follow you to the castle."

Merlin turned to an unconscious Ron, taking in his broken leg bounded with bandages. Nonverbally, he mended Ron's leg. "He'll need Madame Pomfrey, but he'll be alright," Merlin assured them. Hermione could only nod mutely. The rat shook inside the cage.

"Now, go," Merlin told her after tapping  _Mobilicorpus_  to Ron. "They will move after you. You take care, Miss Granger."

The sound of a yelp and a pained whine rang. Harry turned to the woods with no small amount of concern.

"Is it him? The dog, is it Sirius Black?" Merlin asked softly. If Pettigrew was an Animagus, he wouldn't be surprised if Sirius Black was one too. No wonder Snuffles was too smart for a dog.

Harry nodded, his voice firm when he said, "He's innocent all along. I want to tell you the whole story, sir, but now—"

"I understand," Merlin interrupted gently. "That's all I have to hear for now." He laid his hands on Harry's shoulders, asking, "But are you sure you want to go after him? I'd rather you be safe in the castle. I could handle this alone."

Harry shook his head furiously. "He's my godfather," was his only explanation.

"Alright." Merlin smiled. "Let's go. Keep close to me."

At the sound of Sirius Black in trouble, they set off at a run. They followed the sound of yelping, and Merlin concluded it came from the lakeside.

They pelted towards it, with the cold making itself known, when a snarl broke their steps. It was the werewolf, advancing from the shadows of tall trees. It must have smelled humans nearby, and it was ready to feast on human flesh after being suppressed with its bloodlust for so long.

Merlin placed himself between the werewolf and Harry. The movement seemed to anger the werewolf when Merlin obscured Harry from its view. "When I tell you to, you have to run, Harry. Fast. Get Mister Black if you can, but I suggest going straight to the castle and get assistance," he whispered.

"Sir—"

Merlin boldly took a step forward. He could almost see the werewolf's hair rising at Merlin's approach. Merlin was aware of his uncanny effect on dark creatures. Long ago, even Freya in her Bastet form had been hostile to him, and only with his love for her did he affect its reaction. The wolf in Remus was another matter entirely—it wouldn't take kindly to anybody as it was 'chained' inside since Remus began his intake of Wolfsbane, and to add to that was the werewolf's instinctual wariness to Merlin and his magic. It was double the anger directed at Merlin, so to speak.

"Remus?" Merlin inched another step, forcing the werewolf a step back.

It didn't like the position it was in. Feeling threatened, the wolf growled dangerously before lifting its arm, sharp nails wanting to tear at Merlin savagely.

Merlin could barely hear Harry's terrified yell behind him when a roaring squawk and great flapping of wings came.

It was Buckbeak, valiantly defending Merlin and Harry from the werewolf. His beak and eyes were gleaming under the moonlight. He stood, claws ready, completely prepared for the werewolf's retaliation.

The werewolf went more furious at the new obstacle between it and its meal. It snarled at Buckbeak menacingly, and Merlin was sure they would battle to the death if need to be.

"Harry, this is your chance. Go!"

Harry ran without further ado to where the lake was. Unfortunately, the werewolf didn't miss Harry zipping past. Merlin hastily distracted it, whistling.

"Buckbeak, go after Harry." Merlin wasn't sure if he could be understood, but the hippogriff did follow Harry. The werewolf paid them no mind, knowing it could never get to Harry as long as Buckbeak was there to protect him.

Which left the werewolf with Merlin who was unguarded.

Going to the opposite direction, Merlin ran as fast as he could. Long legs carried him a few places ahead of the werewolf. Uninterested at the chase Merlin started, it sped past him, cornering.

Merlin abruptly stopped and checked the area. The shade was darker in their current location, and the trees were taller. There was barely a light seeping through the broad leaves. Satisfied that they were a good distance away, Merlin allowed his magic to move freely.

When he closed his eyes, there was a sudden shift in the air as the leaves swayed with the wind that came forth. His power thrummed through the darkness, sparks of golden hue swirling around Merlin's form. He stood like a beacon, and when he opened his eyes to address the werewolf, his blue irises turned the same shade as that of his magic.

"Remus," Merlin called again, compassion never once waning.

The werewolf was agitated at the strong force of magic it could sense around. It knew then that its supposed prey was a predator underneath, and its own prey trapped him.

"I won't harm you," Merlin said. He extended an open palm, his fingers gingerly finding the muzzle. There was a gash running across its nose. "You're tired."

Instead of snapping its jaw at Merlin's hand, it whimpered at his soft touch. The werewolf let out an odd noise between a growl and a whimper, as if debating within itself whether to treat Merlin as an enemy or part of its pack.

Merlin shushed the werewolf, and with a low voice, he hummed a tune. The werewolf lowered its defenses, nudging Merlin's palm. Chuckling at how doggish the werewolf turned, Merlin sang to it—he sang about a beautiful and kind young lady who was loved by a young man; he sang of the lady's secret, of show she turned into a beast every midnight; he sang of the young man whose love never wavered despite knowing the truth; he sang the elegy of the young man when his love died; and he sang of the special place of the lady on the young man's heart as he lived for eternity.

There was magic in music, and it varied on the strength of who it would come from. Merlin's song of Freya was enough to calm down the werewolf, rendering it asleep with its head on Merlin's lap.

"Rest, child. It has been a long night."

…

At the same moment Harry separated from his professor, the yelping stopped. When he came bounding to the ground beside the lake, without paying heed to the implication of the abrupt drop in temperature, he saw that Black had transformed back to his human form, crouched on all fours with his hands covering his head. Harry could hear him plead at something above him.

There was a swarm of Dementors overhead. They swooped down at Black, the whole mass of them gliding on top of the lake.

They mostly took turns at Black, but some had seen Harry and were now going after him. Harry mustered a happy memory he could think of and came up with what his godfather told him earlier—he would live with him and leave the Dursleys for good.

Fog started to obscure his vision, although it didn't linger when Buckbeak fended off the nearby Dementors. But the cloaked creatures weren't unrelenting either, too great were their need to feed, and here was Harry and Black in their midst.

Harry's gaze landed on Black who rolled on his back with a shudder. He was deathly pale, and his breathing shallow. He was bleeding on his shoulder from his encounter with the werewolf. His state got a lot worse, just when Harry naively thought it couldn't anymore.

 _He'll be alright_. Harry didn't know who he was convincing, but he needed this so much. " _Expecto_ …"

The cold crept to his insides. The scream of his mother that haunted him since last year returned, more pronounced. Buckbeak hit one of his wings on a Dementor that was hardly affected.

 _A happy memory. Think of something happy. Think of only Black. You'll go and live with him after this._ "Expecto—" Harry's mind unhelpfully supplied the reminder that Black was to receive the Dementor's kiss on the spot.  _They'll suck out his soul. His body will remain breathing but he's… he's… he's as good as death… I—no…_

Harry convinced himself that Black would be proven innocent, now with Pettigrew brought to Dumbledore. The Headmaster would call on the authorities…  _and they will call back the Dementors from Black. I just have to keep them from away from him for a while before the Minister arrive._

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Harry managed to gasp out. A Dementor halted, unable to walk past the silvery cloud that Harry's wand created.

Emboldened, Harry reminded himself that he wasn't alone. Buckbeak was with him. He shook his head when he started thinking that Buckbeak could fly them away from there. The Dementors was sure to follow, and Harry didn't want to risk it on air.  _I have to hold on. I can do this._

Harry thought of every happy memory he has. He knew he didn't have a great lot of them, with the loss of his parents at his early age and the threat of Voldemort weighing down on him the most. But Harry has the little things that made him smile and laugh after all his losses. He has his best friends Ron and Hermione, and Hagrid whom they shared a pleasant conversation over tea a few hours ago. He has other friends at Hogwarts like Dean, Seamus, and Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, whose pranks made everybody else laugh. Harry remembered feeling grateful they passed their secret to him—the Marauder's Map.

Harry recalled Cho Chang's smile at him when they passed each other by. Her smiles never failed to make the butterflies in his stomach flutter, lightning up his bad mood at times.

Harry has Hedwig, his fiery owl who didn't like her cage but was always affectionate of Harry. He never had the luxury to own pets before, but Hedwig was more than that. She was also a loyal friend.

Harry recalled befriending Dobby, and he knew that the house elf has his back just like Ron and Hermione. Harry had been proud and elated when Dobby defended him from Lucius Malfoy and declared his loyalty to Harry and Harry alone.

Harry has people like Colin Creevy who has nothing but admiration for him. The Gryffindor who was one year his junior always made him warm in embarrassment at the open admiration, but Harry was glad to see he could inspire those younger than him.

Harry remembered the belief of his Quidditch teammates at his talents. They never looked down at him for being the youngest, confident that they would win with him on the team. The team captain, Oliver Wood, has expressed his support of him, as strong as Professor McGonagall's. Their victory at the House Cup was one of Harry's most glorious moments after his first experience with the broom and flying on Buckbeak's back.

He had been congratulated by Professor Lupin then, his most favorite professor as of date. His approval meant so much to Harry that every praise gave him joy.

Harry has Professor Emrys, who was always looking out for him, not letting him spend the Hogsmeade weekend alone in the castle when he couldn't join Ron and Hermione. He and Professor Loki were the people who encouraged his investigation on the Chamber of Secrets when others would prohibit him, at the same time protecting him from dangers that came along the adventure. He might not have trusted Professor Loki at the beginning, but Harry would be forever grateful when he saved his life.

Lastly, Harry remembered catching a glimpse of his parents through the Mirror of Erised. They might be projection of his desire, but he had seen them clearly. He remembered promising he would make them proud of him and that he would never waste Dumbledore's belief and trust in him.

All these little moments and wonderful people wouldn't have happened to Harry if he didn't discover he was a wizard. His life changed when he received his Hogwarts letter, and everything wouldn't be possible if not for that single moment.

Harry balled all his memories, the smaller pieces making up a larger whole. He would experience more loss and disappointment on the way, but he would stand strong through it all because right now he already was when others at his age would have keeled over at his worst experiences.

Harry felt the surge of magic pulsing together with the waves of emotion washing through him.

All that was left was letting it all out.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

A magnificent white stag galloped across the surface of the frozen lake. Its immense bright light shone, driving away the cold and illuminating the lake and the dark woods within the perimeter.

As the stag drove away the Dementors feasting on Harry and Black, Harry felt Buckbeak's light nip on the collar of his shirt before he could fell face first by Black's side. His surroundings went blurred while Buckbeak gently laid him down on the ground. As his vision dimmed on the sides, he could hear the lapping of lake water near him, confirming that Dementors left the vicinity. His hand found Black's— _Sirius's_ arm and felt warmth radiating from him.

Sirius was alive.

Buckbeak loomed over them as if promising he would stay on guard for any dangers that might arrive. Satisfied, Harry felt his consciousness rapidly slipping from him, his need to succumb to his exhaustion growing. Relenting, Harry closed his eyes tiredly.

Though not without making out a huge transparent shape of another Patronus with enormous wings and long tail flying overhead.

* * *

"Professor Emrys," Dumbledore called pleasantly after knocking on the door and was asked to come in.

Merlin almost jolted from his seat at the voice, pausing in the middle of writing his letter to Loki to be delivered by a raven, Hugin. He wasn't expecting Dumbledore to visit him this early in the morning. "Headmaster," he said after recovering. "Good morning." He stood up properly, smiling.

"Pardon the intrusion, professor. I wasn't sure if you were already up and about. A few people from the hospital wing has been looking for you."

"Oh? How are they, sir?"

"Professor Snape has been suffering from extreme disappointment, but everybody is peachy," Dumbledore answered lightly, hands folded on his back as he surveyed Merlin's office. He had never been in here, Merlin realized. "I was told it was because of your aid last night."

"It wasn't much, but I was glad to help," Merlin said sincerely. He paused, his tone turning more serious. "What happened to Mister Pettigrew?"

"Taken to Azkaban. He's charged with the crimes once thought committed by Sirius Black. He will receive the same sentence Mister Black had."

"Will they perform the Kiss on him?"

Merlin's disapproval must have shown since Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly behind his half-moon spectacles. "No, unless, of course, he breaks out of Azkaban. Though I doubt it will happen again. Before he was taken, he was registered as an illegal Animagus. They will contain him in a cell where he will not be able to transform."

"I see." Merlin nodded, relieved. "And Mister Black?"

"He's allowed not to register, and I think the Ministry owed him that, at least, for not having a trial after he was arrested," Dumbledore said. "He will be tried after two days' time which will serve only as a formality. He was officially pardoned an hour after Mister Pettigrew was interrogated under Veritaserum by the Ministry and confessed his allegiance to Lord Voldemort."

A grin bloomed at Merlin's face. He wasn't aware of this. After he dropped Harry at the hospital wing and helped Madame Pomfrey on Remus, who was yet to revert into a human, he heard the true story of Sirius Black from the Mediwitch before retreating to his quarters and caught some shut-eye. "That's amazing."

"They'll be glad to tell you the rest once you visit them," Dumbledore said with a small smile of his own. "But it's not entirely the reason of my visit."

Merlin stood straighter.

"Harry will soon move with his godfather, and he'll call it home," Dumbledore told him. "The protection his remaining blood relative provides will be rendered useless. I am not under the illusion that it will stop Harry, or his godfather, from living together." He paused, thoughtful. "I came here today to ask you whether you know of strong household protection charms that can be placed on Harry's new residence."

Merlin was surprised at what Dumbledore was asking him.

"I was told you are a good researcher," Dumbledore answered before Merlin could ask. "And that you have vast knowledge in Old Religion. Old magic was invoked by Lily Evans when she sacrificed her life for Harry, and I've been wondering if the same brand of magic can be placed on Harry's new home."

Merlin didn't miss what the Headmaster was insinuating, but frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore had found out about him, and possibly Loki too, long since they applied for their teaching positions. Dumbledore could make the best impression of Gaius with his knowing look; he was just lacking Gaius's semi-permanent raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore seemed to read Merlin's mind. He looked rather amused. "Ah, let me know when you found it, professor."

"You'll be hearing from me soon, Headmaster," Merlin promised with a grin.

…

"You're leaving?"

Lupin looked up and paused his packing. He saw Emrys by the doorway. "Yes, I am. I'm only a substitute, remember?"

"But the Headmaster could have make you a regular. I don't think he's against two Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors," Emrys said. "Besides, I can see that you like teaching."

Lupin smiled. That was true. "Indeed, but I'm afraid the parents will not take kindly with a werewolf teaching their children." At Emrys's frown, Lupin added, "Professor Snape might have let it slip that I am one."

Defeated, Emrys sighed at the revelation. "Well, I wish you all the best."

"It's nice knowing you, Emrys."

Emrys snorted. "Come off it. Don't think I'll let you miss our tea sessions." He brightened at an idea. "You can meet Loki next time."

"I suppose," Lupin replied, amused. "You take care as well. And good luck with your teaching."

"Yeah, I'll probably owl you to ask for tips sometimes." Emrys approached his desk. "If you need somebody to talk to, I'm an owl away."

Lupin closed his briefcase. "I should say the same." He offered a hand.

Emrys considered the proffered hand before jokingly batting it away and embracing Lupin like a brother. Lupin returned the gesture with a pat on Emrys's back.

"You will never tell me, will you?" Lupin asked when Emrys pulled away. Emrys looked at him quizzically. "Your secret." Lupin smiled mildly. "Don't get me wrong—it's yours to keep so I won't pry. Although it makes me unusually curious, I trust your secrecy."

"One day, you'll know," Emrys assured him. "I promise."

Lupin believed it.

_**end** _

**Author's Note:**

> **To be continued at Harry's Fourth Year**
> 
>  
> 
> Note: **Ǫnd** and **Hugr** info taken directly from [this](http://grumpylokeanelder.tumblr.com/post/82712592904/question-souls-pieces-and-the-afterlife-in-norse).


End file.
